Wool Over the Eyes
by Elleree
Summary: Kid and Heyes take a job and end up in a mess of trouble. Curry returns to camp to find everything trashed and Heyes gone. When Kid finally finds him, the two end up cornered, outnumbered, and outgunned. Advice welcome. R&R appreciated. I aim to finish this this time!
1. Chapter 1

**Wool Over the Eyes**

Kid Curry rode along quietly, thinking about Heyes' warning about taking on other people's fights. The pay was good, though, and the Bennetts seemed like good people. Mr. Bennett had seen Kid stop a gambler from killing Heyes, had seen Heyes smoothly take things over when the sheriff arrived, and had invited them to dinner. They were intelligent, trouble-avoidin' men, so couldn't they take a job? With the pay offered, and the excellent dinner from the attractive Mrs. Bennett, Kid had been inclined to help. Heyes hadn't.

Curry might have kept on thinking about it if he hadn't smelled there was something wrong at the camp before he could see it. He eased his horse into a gallop, giving the pack mule tied to her fair warning, the scent of putrefying flesh getting stronger as he rode up to where the shed they were camping in had been. But the shed was down, collapsed in on itself, trampled to bits.

The camp was torn up and Heyes wasn't anywhere in sight. The stench came from Heyes' mare. She was shot up in several spots, bloated, her guts oozed out onto the dirt, flies landing on her staring brown eyes. Kid had stopped his horse, had stopped moving, had stopped thinking. The shack was kindling and their supplies were all over the ground, mashed into pieces.

Kid clenched his jaw, scanned the area, got off his horse with his gun drawn. After deciding he wasn't about to get picked off by a shooter, he went to the downed shed they'd bunked in. Anything that had happened to Heyes was his fault.

"Heyes?" Curry threw aside the pieces of the tin roof and the lumber, digging downward, ignoring his protesting hands. "Heyes?" As the shed had been more lean-to than house, he made a quick job of it.

Heyes wasn't there. He took in a shaky breath. Not there, not broken and tangled up in the rubble. But then where?

Kid hobbled the mare and mule. He tried to ignore the rotten smell and his growing sense of dread. He was a pretty good scout but not a self-proclaimed "champine" tracker like Heyes, which was ironic since he was the better of the two. Still, the signs were easy to read. A bunch of hooves lead into the camp from the south. The tracks said the riders had walked their horses until they were about 30 yards away when they'd galloped. Curry assumed the attack had gone on last night—there wasn't any other way they could have snuck up on Heyes.

Kid's partner had been making dinner; the overturned can of beans, the remains of the fire pit, and the fork lying flat in the dirt said as much. Cards were strewn over the ground like confetti, too, so Heyes had been playing Blackjack.

How many men had Heyes been up against? Judging from the tracks, Kid decided there'd been about five or six. Five or six guns against Heyes, who, though a good shot, wasn't a fast draw. Kid kicked the overturned can, scattering the beans. The partners had flipped for who got to go to town—which was closer than the Bennetts' bunkhouses from their end—stock up, get a bath, a decent meal, and Curry had won. He'd won and he'd been happy about it, and he hadn't been there for Heyes. He hadn't been there for him, but he'd gotten him into it.

Mr. Bennett had said they merely had to watch over the back end of their property—the regular hands had the front and the middle—so they knew the place was safe while they were gone. And maybe the boys could help their nearest neighbors, the Sterlings, friends of theirs, if needed. Heyes had asked why they were taking the extra precaution. Bennett said he'd had some trouble with the local ranchers about grazing rights but that they were leaving to sell the sheep, which he'd inherited from his father along with the animosity from the cattlemen. Heyes had been against it, figured if there was a losing side the Bennetts were it, but Kid had argued that the sheep that had shared open range with the cattle were gone and that they'd be paid triple what other local jobs offered. So Heyes went along with the Kid and the Kid might have gotten him killed.

Kid stopped and looked again at a bit of ground he'd walked past. The dirt was compressed like something had been there and a mark next to the spot seemed to be a handprint. And the dark red stain, that had to be blood. Someone had fallen, bleeding, and shoved himself back up. _It doesn't have to be Heyes,_ Kid thought, _one of the riders could have fallen_. But there weren't hoof prints near and the proximity to the fire pit was undeniable. Five or six men had rode in shooting, killing the horse, and injuring Heyes who had fallen in his haste to get away from the fire into some cover. Kid stared at the blood stain as though it could tell him how bad Heyes was hurt, where he was hit, where he _was_.

He must've gotten away in the confusion, though, Kid reasoned, the hooves left the camp in different, winding directions like a posse would when looking for a fugitive. Kid clenched his fists. It _could_ have been a real posse; someone at the Bennetts could have recognized Heyes and gone to take him in, dead or alive. After a moment, Curry decided it was the proddy cattle ranchers who were responsible, since a posse wouldn't have been so secretive, not when they knew Heyes was without his gunslinger partner.

Heyes would've headed toward the rocky woods rather than the valley, so Kid un-hobbled his horse, checked the mule, and headed out. He took several deep breaths, trying to assume his famous poker face. He was antsy, jumpy; he felt like he had a ball of worry in his throat he was going to choke on. Curry couldn't stand not knowing where Heyes was, if he was alright or dead or lying somewhere in pain wondering where his partner, his cousin, his brother, basically, was. Although the morning was chilly, Kid's stomach was rumbling, and he'd just discovered that digging frantically in splintered rubble _hurt_ one's hands, he started the search determined to keep going until he found Heyes.

Kid picked up a set of hoof prints along the tree line and found a place where all the horses had circled around another spot of compressed dirt—a fallen man. Kid fingered the handle of his gun, a nervous habit; he'd spotted something black and half buried. He got off his horse, walked inside the circle and pulled a black hat with silver on the band—_Heyes'_ hat—out of the dirt. Kid's hand shook as he picked it up and dusted it off, staring at it. So the riders had him. They had Heyes. As he turned the hat over, he noticed blood. Blood on the underside of the rim and blood on the ground. Heyes' blood. Kid held the hat tightly and closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

_Running for the trees. Stumbling because of the pain, getting up and going on. A horse suddenly in the way. Darting around but being trapped by another rider and another and another. Trapped in a circle of men with their guns out._

_"Good evening fellas, is there something I can do for you?" A gleaming smile to cover up the trapped expression in the eyes. A glance to see if there is help coming, if the shots had alerted anyone; nothing. Alone. All alone. The moonlight glinting off a gun, a loud shot, falling…_

Kid flinched; the gunshot he'd invented seemed to ring in his ears. No. That was not what happened. Heyes was not dead. Kid shook his head and slowly scouted the area. So it could have been a posse; why would the ranchers take his partner? Unless they'd wanted information from him…

Kid cursed under his breath; there weren't any more tracks. They'd gone into the forest, all of them, where he couldn't trail them. Not with the ground being just as much rock as dirt and the men having finally decided to cover their trail.

He got back on his horse, doubling back to the camp to get supplies so he could go into the woods and look for his partner. He was going to find him. He just hoped he was alive.

There was someone at the camp. Kid didn't see anyone but he knew it. He'd known it before the mule had brayed a warning. His gun was raised in a second and Curry's eyes narrowed.

"Hello the camp," the Kid said, his voice low, dangerous. He eased off his horse and onto the ground, preferring to shoot standing.

When the culprit came out into the open, Kid's calm, serious expression faded into disbelief. Standing in naught but her nightgown was Miss Emma Sterling, the eight year old who lived next door to the Bennetts. He and Heyes had helped her family—not cattle people—fix one of their fences, per Mr. Bennett's orders.

"Emma? What're you doing? Are you alone?"

"I-I'm alone. I-I'm sorry for startlin' you, Thaddeus, but-but…" Emma burst into tears, her small body shaking. Hastily shoving his gun back in the holster, 'Thaddeus' looked at her in a mix of dismay, concern, and annoyance. He had to find Heyes—the last thing he needed was a crying little girl.

Kid being Kid, though, said, "It's okay, honey, no need to cry." And he gently rubbed the girl's back when she burrowed into his arms. "What's wrong, Em?"

"I…" The girl looked suddenly hesitant. "I want to help you and Joshua but, but, you hafta promise to help me, too."

"What do you mean, you want to help us?" Kid's eyes got serious but his voice stayed gentle. "Do you know something about Josh? Do you know where he is, Emma?"

The girl nodded, her black hair falling into her face. "These men. These men came." Emma started shivering and Curry pulled off his sheepskin coat and wrapped it around her. "Uncle Jimmy—Uncle Jimmy went to the door and askt what they wanted."

Jimmy was the brother of Emma's mom. Emma, her sister Cora, and their mom had gone to live with him after her father had died. Emma had told the ex-outlaws her life story between their breaks from working. Kid nodded again, saying nothing and hoping she'd continue.

She swallowed. "They shot him. I saw it. They shot, _shot_ Uncle Jimmy!"

"Aw, honey," Kid pulled her close as she started shaking harder.

"I was outside in the—the…" She paused. "I was doin' business. _You_ know. So they din'n't see me. But I saw them. Momma was screaming and they pushed past her and hit her, and the men, they had a man tied on a horse."

"…tied on a horse…?" Kid repeated faintly. _Oh God, no, please no, please…_

"Yeh. After they were inside, one came out an' untied the man an' took 'im off the horse. An', an' I saw it 'uz Joshua. He…he had blood on 'im an', an…'"

Kid suppressed a shiver of his own as he mechanically patted the girls' back. _Please…_

"I thought, I thought he 'uz dead, too, like Uncle Jimmy, but he groaned real loud when he 'uz carried in." Kid shuddered, exhaling. "After they put up the horses, I went up by the house an' climbed the woodpile so as I could see in the little window by the loft. The men had Momma shoved in the corner with Cora. They askt her where the Bennetts were an' hit her, but Joshua said the Bennetts din'n't tell our family. An' the men shoved all our plates off the table—even Momma's crystal glasses—an' put Joshua on it. They were yellin' at him, saying how anyone sided with the land-hogging sheepers would die and they wanted to know where the Bennetts were, but Joshua din'n't answer an'—" The girl stopped, looked down.

"What, Em, what happened? I need to know everything so I can help."

She took a deep breath. "They askt him 'bout where his partner wuz—that's you, right?" He nodded. "They askt him where you were and he said—" Her voice lowered. "He said to 'go to hell' an' they kept hittin' him and they broke a plate on him an'…an' he 'uz hurt bad. I thought he wuz gonna die. I did. I don't know how he ain't. They kept askin' an' hurtin' him but he din'n't tell on you nor the Bennetts, he din'n't, honest. He got mad when they askt about you, kept tellin' 'em to go to hell. He weren't never gonna snitch on you, Thaddeus," she said with the intent to make him feel better but Kid's heart sank. Heyes had gotten more hurt because he protected his partner—his partner who hadn't been able to protect him. Emma continued. "They hurt him bad but he din'n't talk. An' that's when I climbt down an' run to find help."

"Could you tell how he was hurt, Em? Where he got shot?"

The girl nibbled her thumbnail. "Um, there 'uz blood… he wuz bloody. He 'uz bleedin' on his forehead an' I think the other blood 'uz from his chest." At Kid's pained look she added, "But mebbe it wuz more like his shoulder… I din'n't see him close…"

Curry closed his eyes. "That's everything? Did you hear anything else?"

She scrunched her nose. "Um…they said a lot of bad words, an' sometimes I din'n't understand 'em but I know they wanted the Bennetts an' all their help dead. They said they done kilt the other hands. They wanted Joshua to talk an' some of 'em were gonna look for you."

"How many men were there?"

She paused. "Six. There were six bad un's an' Joshua. An' Uncle Jimmy, but…" Kid nodded. "Thaddeus…I tole you, so will you promise me? Promise me to help Mom and Cora too?"

"Of course I will, Emma."

She looked at her dirty feet, wiggling her toes. "It's just…It's just that I thought about tattlin' so they'd let Momma and Cora go…" Kid froze. "But I din'n't cuz that ain't right. I'm sorry, I'm sorry I thought about tellin'… But I din'n't so please help Momma an' Cora."

She started crying again. So that's what was bothering her.

"Emma, there's no need to be sorry. Of _course_ you thought about saving your family anyway you could." Just as he would Heyes. "The important thing is you came and got me so's I can save everyone."

"Everyone?"

"Everyone." He hoped.

"Not countin' the bad men. You can, can…" Her fists clenched. "Shoot them good an' dead an', an' spit on them."

"Well…" He said carefully. "I'm gonna try and do it without hurting anyone that bad." In front of her and her sister, anyway. "Em, when you left, was Josh…?" His throat closed. "Was he…uh…"

"They'd stopped hurtin' 'im to talk to each other an' Joshua was real still an' pale an' looked…" Emma shuddered. "Real bad off, but I know his head moved. I made sure afore I left. I din'n't want to hafta tell you he 'uz dead." He didn't want that either. "I'm sure he'll be ok if'n we save 'em."

But she was just a little girl and the injuries sounded bad. Especially if he'd been shot in the chest. _Damn!_ Kid wanted to lash out, to hurt something, to make the ache in his own chest go away, to erase the image behind his eyes of his wounded partner.

"Okay, time to go. I'm gonna need to take you someplace safe."

"No, I want to save them, too."

Kid shook his head. "Emma, I want you and your family safe. If you aren't safe, I'll worry about you, and if I worry about you that means I can't be concentratin' on rescuing everybody. Understand?"

She nodded, reluctantly.

"Is there anybody around you trust? What about the Johnson's? They're ranchers, but the Bennetts said they'd never bothered them and had even spoke up for 'em."

She nodded. "Yeah, they're real nice. An' I love to play with the baby."

"That's settled then." Kid mounted his horse and pulled the little girl up, holding her tightly in his lap. "Now hold on, Emma, the quicker I get you to the Johnson's, the quicker I can help your family." And Heyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Of course, there was the matter of actually _getting_ to the Johnson's. Kid had finally taken off at a canter after "freein' that poor ole donkey" who Emma had said was sure to "git ate up by a lion if'n he stayed hobbled." So Kid had freed the animal and after Emma had used a bush for a powder room, they finally went on their way. Kid glanced down at the girl; she was holding on tight but he kept one arm around her. It'd keep her warmer and besides, little girls were unpredictable, even—or especially—the brave ones.

The insects weren't humming. Nothing moved. The woods that were the last barrier between them and the Johnson's stead were still, silent. The hairs on the back of Kid's neck stood up. He leaned down by Emma's ear.

"Em, I want you to stay low to the horse's neck and hold on tight to her, okay?"

"'Kay." Something in his voice told her not to ask questions.

"And you oughta close your eyes, too," Curry added.

That taken care of, Kid readied his gun, leaned his body over Emma's, and charged the horse straight into the woods.

Two guns fired. The first shot, a rifle, missed; the shooter wasn't in view. The second shot came from a man with a six shooter waiting on a horse at the entrance of the woods and it knocked the Kid's hat off his head. Curry, still galloping the horse full out, made it past the man, turned in his seat, and shot him off his horse.

The rifle fired again and Emma screamed. The shot grazed the rear of the horse and made the mare shriek and toss her head; Kid reined back tight and brought her under control. Emma, though, had started slipping when the mare had balked and Kid had to grab the girl while still holding the reins and the gun. When Emma was back in her former position, he kicked his horse onward and charged into a close copse of trees, pulling to a hard stop.

He waited. And waited. Then it came.

Movement in the trees.

Curry, aware of the distance, lined his gun up carefully and pulled the trigger. The rifleman went down. Still Kid waited, patting the horse to reassure her, but nothing else moved. There was only the sound of the panting mare, little Emma breathing in quick little gasps, and the faint moans of one of the wounded men. After what he deemed a decent interval, Kid eased down off the horse and motioned for Emma to stay put. He disarmed the downed men—one shot in the shoulder, one in the gut. Both were alive but neither was conscious. He doubted whether the rifleman would last the night. _Two down, Heyes._ He stared at them, wondering if either of the men had hurt his partner and what exactly he'd do to them if he knew for sure. _I'm coming, just hold on._

"Are we gonna kill 'em?"

Kid spun around to glare at Emma. "You were supposed to stay put."

She looked sheepish for half a second and then frowned. "Yeh, an' you were supposed to kill 'em an' spit on 'em."

Kid didn't know whether to be amused or shocked. He thought about his answer for a long moment. "You don't shoot people when they're down, Em. 'Specially if they ain't awake. C'mon, let's get you safe."

He scooped her up, carried her to the mare, got on, and then plopped her in his lap.

"Thaddeus?" Emma asked after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Even if you din'n't kill 'em, you still sure were great. I bet you're a better shot than Momma, even."

Kid snorted an almost-laugh and turned it into a cough. "Your Momma can shoot?"

"Sure. She always was a site better'n Poppa—he couldn't hit the backside of a buffalo. Momma always did the shootin', if shootin' 'uz done."

The two story log cabin came into view and Kid breathed a relieved sigh. The sooner Emma was safe the sooner he could help Heyes and her family.

"Thaddeus?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell momma I tole you she could shoot. She'd whip me for sure; says it ain't lady-like. So I din'n't say nothing, 'kay?"

"Okay. Now Em, stay quiet a second, I needta announce us to the house."

The pumping of a shotgun barrel sounded through the air from the side of the house."That won't be necessary," said a deep male voice. "Now sit the girl down and maybe I won't shoot your head off."


	4. Chapter 4

Kid's hands stilled. His right was near his holster but his left was around Emma.

Emma. If he didn't have her to worry about he would have drawn his gun before the man, who was advancing around the corner, could shoot. He couldn't risk it.

"You plan on shootin' hers off, too?"

The man stepped into the light. He was an older man, around forty, with whiskers and brown hair. He had on canvas dungarees and a dirty cotton shirt that looked almost as old as he was. "Just yours."

Kid raised his head a little, daring him.

Emma looked back and forth between the men before adding, "Mr. Johnson, don't shoot him; he's alright, honest. He's Thaddeus, he fixed our fence."

"You're Mr. Johnson?" Kid relaxed a hair.

The older man nodded and visibly relaxed his shoulders. "You Bennett's man?"

Kid nodded shortly, still giving him the cool blue stare, making up his mind.

"What was the shootin'?"

Kid stayed quiet and Emma elbowed him. He frowned down at her and said, "Got bushwhacked."

"It's true," Emma said. "He jest shot 'em after they done tried to kill us. He wuz dumpin' me off here so's he can go rescue everybody."

Mr. Johnson looked over Kid's calm exterior and lowered his rifle. "Come on in, then. I'm Ted Johnson. With all this trouble about lately and then that shootin', I had to be careful like."

Kid didn't move. He was trying to decide if he should really leave the girl when a young woman came out the front door with a toddler in her arms. She wasn't pretty but she was tidy, trim, large with another child, and she marched outside with the air of a soldier.

"Teddy, did I hear Emma?" She glanced at her husband. "I told you to stop wearing that horrible shirt."

"And I tole you, Marybeth, to stay inside." Ted grumbled.

Kid immediately nodded to her politely. She ignored both him and her husband and walked up to the horse. Emma strained against Kid's hand, trying to get down.

"Emma Mae Sterling what in land's sake are you doing out at dusk with some cowboy?" She afforded a glance at Kid; she had brown eyes. "No offense." She took another look at Emma. "Are you in your _nightdress_? Lord, child, you get inside this minute and put on one of my old dresses. It'll be big on you but decent."

Kid, seeing the pregnant mother and her concern, gently let Emma down off his lap. She handed him his coat, which he put back on.

"Be good now," Kid warned, smiling a little.

"You too. A good shot, I mean," Emma replied smartly, following Mrs. Johnson into the house.

After a moment, the woman stuck her head out the front door and looked at Kid. "And don't _you_ get into trouble."

"No ma'am," Curry replied automatically. He felt somewhat like a school teacher had scolded him.

"You want to come in for a spell?" Ted looked both faintly embarrassed and proud.

The Kid shook his head. "Can't. I'm obliged if you and your wife could keep Emma here for now."

Ted made sure the front door was closed. "Of course. What's the problem?"

"There's some trouble at the Sterling's." Kid shifted, anxious to get moving.

"Started with the Bennetts, didn't it?"

"Yep," Kid said.

"Can I help? I'm a decent shot with my rifle but I'm piss with a six-gun."

"You just stay and take care of Emma and your family." He thought a moment. "The two bushwhackers are still in your woods. I took the guns. One's hit in the shoulder, one in the gut."

"I'll take care of it."

Kid nodded. He didn't know what Ted meant and he didn't care.

"Nuthin' else ?"

"There is one thing…you got another horse?"

So the Kid made sure Ted knew to doctor the mare's grazed croup and traded her for a fresh, well-rested black gelding. He tacked the horse quickly but hesitated as he glanced at the rifle he'd taken from one of the bushwhackers. Shaking his head, he left it and mounted, heading toward Heyes. He wasn't a rifleman and he didn't want to take the time to mess with the rifle scabbard. The gelding was cantering, but Kid paced him out so they could move fast and still get there without killing the horse. He'd strapped one of the downed men's gun belts to his other hip so he had easy access to his gun and the ambusher's. He was ready. _I'm close, partner. Hold on a little longer, I'll be there._


	5. Chapter 5

He ached. He felt like his head had railroad ties pounded through it, his upper chest and shoulder had a mass of flesh-eating fire-ants stinging him, and his torso had lost some sort of bronco riding contest by being trampled. Hannibal Heyes moaned and shuddered. Why did he have to wake up? How long had he been out?

"Shh," a soft voice admonished. "It's okay Joshua, you're alright."

Heyes cracked his eyes open and saw a pair of blue ones staring back —not the right pair of blue eyes, though, not the ones he'd looked for. Those blues belonged to the widow. "You…got a strange…definition of alright," he mumbled, trying to remember everything that had happened. He'd been eating beans, playing cards, passing time until morning when Kid would be back.

"They don't seemta mind me tendin' you as long as we're quiet." She gently placed a wet cloth on his face and wiped at his multiple cuts. Heyes winced, shutting his eyes against the bright light that shot through his head.

He remembered. Ambushed. His horse getting shot. _Him _getting shot, running, getting caught. A hellish ride and then the Sterling's dinner table. He started to prop himself up but fell back with a groan. How had he gotten on the floor?

She must have seen his look because she said, "Don't move, now. I made them put ya on the floor so you wouldn't roll off an' hurt yourself. Oh, dear, you sure have a nasty cut here."

Miss Sterling cleaned the large gash on the top of his forehead gingerly, trying not to hit the surrounding blue and black bruising. That was the worst cut; the others were little superficial scratches where the broken plate had hit him.

"They…hit me with...a rifle butt."

The woman made a sympathetic noise and glanced back in the corner to make sure Cora was still asleep. She was, curled into a ball on top of her mother's shawl. "There. I'm all done."

Heyes gritted his teeth. "The bullet…?"

"I dug it out." She shuddered. "You started wakin' when I cleaned the wound. You're lucky it hit you so high—shoulder's better'n what it coulda been."

He closed his eyes against the aching light and started to nod only to have the pain clench into him again. "They…didn't hurt you or the little one? ...They hit you, though…"

Talking took energy and he could afford to use very little of it.

"Cora's okay, only scared. She's finally asleep. And don't worry 'bout them slappin' me aroun' a little—my brother an' me used to have fist fights." Her voice died as she thought about Jimmy lying outside of her cabin, his guts shot out. She had a faint bruise on one pale cheek and her coal colored hair had fallen out of its bun.

"I'm…sorry." And he was. The reason her brother was dead was because the rancher's hired help had needed a place to bunk while they interrogated him and tried to find his partner. _Kid._ He couldn't imagine losing him, just couldn't, so he perceived Miss Sterling's pain. Perceived it and feared it. He hoped, prayed he wouldn't experience it; he had no way of knowing if the Kid had been bushwhacked, trapped, hurt, killed.

Heyes risked a look around; two of the men had ridden off earlier and were still gone and it seemed two others were out of the room now as well. Heyes looked at their captors again carefully and stifled a groan. They'd left the two bloodthirsty ones that had been for killing Heyes immediately and that had tried to rip off Miss Sterling's dress. He had to think of a plan. There were only two guards instead of six. But thinking made his head throb and the room go all wobbly.

"It's not your fault," she said. He opened his mouth. "No, no it _isn't_. We were friends with the Bennetts afore you came here an' we woulda been pointed out for sure."

He didn't argue with her and closed his eyes, picturing Kid. Where was he? Was he alright? He shivered, feeling suddenly hot. He felt Miss Sterling put the cool cloth on his forehead and take his hand. "…appreciate…the help…"

"Don't talk, Josh. Oh, I meant to say, you can call me Sara."

Heyes squeezed her hand. After resting a moment he asked, "Sara, 'bout what…time…is it?"

She bit her lip. "It's near dark, a little past dusk. Other 'n that, I dunno."

So Kid knew for sure what had happened and had already been looking for him for some time. If he hadn't been caught, captured, killed... Heyes stopped thinking. He watched the two guards that had been talking near the front window suddenly move toward the three prisoners.

"Now that the boss is gone gettin' more help, we figure we can go on an' do things our way," the larger of the two men said, grinning at the captives.

"You leave him alone, now, he's hurt bad," Sara said bravely, her voice trembling as the men approached. She moved in front of Heyes and her daughter.

"You oughtn't worry 'bout him, woman," the smaller man said with a leer.

"They all plan ta kill you. But us, we figure we mighta be able ter make the boss let you an' the girl live; only you gotta be nice to us."

"_Real_ nice."

The larger man jerked Sara to her feet and she gasped, trying to pull away. Cora stirred in the corner.

"Momma?" The sleepy four-year old asked, sitting up.

Sara glanced back at her daughter and jerked away from the man. "It's alright baby, go back to sleep now, close your eyes."

The bigger guard jerked the mother back to him by her hair and she yelped as he pulled her close and slid his hand up her skirt. The shorter captor leered and went to join in the fun, stroking Sara's face.

"Leave her alone!" Heyes forced himself up and shoved his good shoulder into the smaller man's knees, knocking him over. Pain shot through him but he still tried to push himself upright to help Sara. The larger man threw her against the wall. Heyes saw the behemoth stomp toward him and heard Sara's yell and then the blinding white light shot through his head in a screech of pain, leaving only blackness in its wake.


	6. Chapter 6

"Keep your eyes closed, baby, keep your eyes closed, keep your eyes closed, love," a female voice chanted continuously, the gasps in between the breaths coming out as sobs. It was the only thing Kid could hear through the door. He narrowed his eyes, his jaw set.

Curry had arrived at the Sterling's cabin and had crept up to the door after first checking the perimeter. He had both guns out, ready, and stood on one side of the cabin's entrance. After a deep breath, he kicked the door in.

Heyes was on his side turned away from Kid, a pool of blood beneath his shoulder. Cora was in the corner with her hands covering her face, crying. One of the hired guns was holding Sara down and the other had just gotten on top of her. Her dress was up over her head, her undergarments torn. All of this Kid registered in the second after the door buckled in beneath his boot.

He didn't hesitate. Curry fired both guns, knocking the man off the widow and blasting the other up against the wall. Sara scrambled out of the way and pulled her dress down.

The smaller gunman who'd been on Sara rolled over with a moan. He was hit in the back of the shoulder blade. The man against the wall had taken the shot in the chest and was plainly dead. Kid holstered one gun, kept the other on the wounded man, and moved forward to grab his weapon. He was startled to hear the cocking of a six-gun and turned to see Sara holding the dead man's firearm.

"Bastard," she whispered, looking down at the whimpering thug.

"Miss Sterling…" Kid said softly in the voice he used for spooked animals. He glanced at Heyes, who lay there very still, and then kept his eyes on the widow. "Ma'am, I'll take care of the gun."

"I'll give it to you, Thaddeus, soon as I'm finished," Sara replied, her voice even. "Cora, baby, keep your eyes closed a little while more."

She pointed the gun at the injured man's head and raised her chin, tears dripping down off her cheeks.

"Ma'am, think what you're doin'." Kid's voice was still gentle, his eyes full of sympathy.

"I oughta kill him. His bunch killed Jimmy, threatened my baby, an' he and his partner…they tried…" She trailed off.

"I know, ma'am, he deserves killin'; I'd like to shoot him myself. But like I told Emma, you don't shoot people when they're down and you don't hurt people weaker'n you."

"He did."

"Yes ma'am. And do you want to be like him?"

Sara stood over the man for a long moment. She dropped the gun and looked over at the Kid, swiping at her tears. "You saw Emma?"

Curry let out a breath. "Yes, ma'am. She told me you all were in trouble."

"She's safe?"

"She's with the Johnson's." Kid was looking for rope. The sooner he tied up the survivor the sooner he could see to Heyes and make sure Sara and Cora were really alright.

"Thank God."

Kid turned to pick up a loop of rope and heard someone slide across the floorboards and snatch up the dropped gun. Curry swiveled; Sara hadn't moved. He looked at the gunman and fired before the man could pull the trigger of the six-shooter he'd had pointed at the widow. He fell. This time he didn't move.

"I'm…sorry," Sara murmured. "I about got us killed."

Kid cautiously approached the man and made sure he was dead. "It's okay, ma'am. You alright?"

"Yes…" Sara bent down and took Cora into her arms. "We're okay now, thanks to you."

"You sure?"

"We're alright."

Curry nodded, holstered his weapon, and moved over to his partner. "Heye—," He stopped himself. "Hey Josh."

The Kid gently turned his cousin over and winced when he saw the gash on his forehead, the cuts, the bruises, and the puckered open wound in his shoulder. Kid swore softly. He glanced around and noticed the wet rag and a bunch of bloody cloths.

"Ma'am, did you get the bullet out?"

"Call me Sara," she said, her eyes now dry, rocking her crying daughter. "I got the bullet out an' slowed the bleedin'. But he-he tried to help me an' the men knocked him over the head an'," she looked down. "Kicked him when he fell. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, Sara." Kid took one of the rags and pressed it to Heyes' shoulder. "Thanks for tendin' him." He was bleeding steadily and his face was pale. _So pale…_ "Do you have somethin' we can sew this up with? He can't keep bleeding."

"I do, but we really oughta get goin'. The men said the others left to get help."

Kid closed his eyes for a second and then looked back down at Heyes. His partner was motionless, white, and had beads of sweat all along his black and purple forehead. "I can't move him. Not tonight."

Sara bit her lip. "I know," she said, softly. She looked down at Cora, who had stopped crying and was clinging to her. She regarded Heyes. "Maybe…we could take the wagon—"

Kid shook his head. "We can't move him and I'm not leaving." His tone was still soft but entirely final. "You and your daughter had best head up to the Johnson's. I'll take care of Josh."

Sara shifted Cora to her other hip. "I can't leave you here alone. You can't take care of him _an'_ shoot, can you?"

Kid looked at her and managed a tight smile. "I see where Emma gets it. But look, Sara, I'd feel better with you and Cora outta harm's way. And I can—and will—take care of my partner."

Sara furrowed her brow. "You sure?"

"I am. So please go on and ride."

The widow studied him a minute before walking over to a cabinet and taking out a sewing kit. She set her daughter down.

"Cora, baby, can you go get Momma the pitcher of water by the nightstand?"

Cora nodded, ignored the two bodies, and ran to the adjoining room. Sara put the sewing kit next to Heyes.

"You get those dead bodies outside. I'll stay with Josh." Kid opened his mouth to protest. "No, go on. I'll leave in a minute. Every second you argue we waste time we don't got."

Kid looked at her and stood up, reluctantly leaving his partner. By the time Cora came back in the room, the bodies had vanished, the blood was mostly cleaned up, and Kid was back in his place beside Heyes.

"Here, Momma." Cora carried the jug carefully, the water jar almost as tall as she was.

Sara smiled at her, relieved to hear her voice. "Thanks, baby."

She took the pitcher and gave it to Curry.

"You'd better go." Kid had already started cleaning Heyes' wound.

Sara nodded. "Sew that up good, now. Use the thick thread, the stuff for canvas. Cora, grab your cloak."

Curry finished washing out Heyes' shoulder wound. He picked up the needle and thread and was discomfited to see his hands were shaking. He didn't want to hurt Heyes; it was his fault he was hurt as bad as he was.

"Here." Sara took the threaded needle from him. "I'll sew; you hold 'im."

"But you needta leave."

Sara hesitated and glanced at Cora who had put on her coat and was bending over to slip on her shoes without being told. "We'll go as soon as I sew him up."

Kid nodded, relieved. He held his partner and continued to talk reassuringly to him in a low voice. He tried not to watch Sara pulling the needle up and down and focused on talking to Heyes.

"Done." Sara watched the man let out a breath and thought he'd probably been more uncomfortable than Joshua had been. After all, her patient hadn't stirred but once. "I think I'd best leave his forehead alone."

Kid surveyed his best friend. "He's so still." Heyes was always a restless invalid. He put his hand on a relatively unscathed part of Heyes' forehead. "Feel him."

Sara complied and frowned. "Hot."

"What should I do?" Kid looked at her with his heart in his eyes and dipped a clean cloth in the water and put it on his cousin's head.

"Keep the cool rags on 'im. Try to get 'im to drink."

"That's it?" Kid wasn't good at being helpless. Especially when it came to helping his partner. He stood up abruptly and walked around the room. He felt like Heyes in a jail cell.

"We'll be going now; I just got to get Cora safe. Please be careful."

"You too."

Sara scooped up her daughter and went out the front door.

"Looks like it's just us, Heyes." Kid dipped another cloth in the water, wrung it out, and put it around his partner's neck. "I'm sorry I got us into this," he added in a low tone. Kid stood up and got a cup of water. He lifted his partner, cradling his head. "You gotta drink for me, Heyes."

He put the cup to Heyes' lips and tipped it slowly. Heyes coughed, spluttered, and turned away. Curry kept trying for several minutes and managed only to soak the both of them and nearly drown Heyes.

"Easy, partner, easy. You hafta drink," Kid kept coaxing. "Please drink for me, Heyes. C'mon, bud." Curry didn't know if it was his pleading or not but Heyes finally stopped fighting him and swallowed a few sips.

"There ya go." Kid patted his good arm and lowered his head back to the makeshift coat-pillow.

The sound of a horse outside startled him. _Only one?_ Kid pulled out his gun, moved in front of his cousin, and trained the gun on the door.

Sara burst in, Cora behind her.

"Sara? What's wrong, I thought—"

"Men." She took a breath. "I heard them. They ain't here yet but they will be, an' soon. Ten minutes at most. I couldn't get past 'em to the Johnson's without 'em seein' us."

Kid stood up. He looked out the windows, pushed the table on its side, carried it in front of Heyes, and barred the door.

"Sara, you and Cora stay behind the table and watch out for Josh." He picked up a small dresser and put it in front of the table for extra protection.

"Cora, honey, get behind there," Sara said. Cora shook her head, clinging to her mother's skirt. "Go on."

When Cora still refused, Sara opened a cedar chest and pulled out a blanket and draped it on top of the dresser and the top table legs, making an improvised tent. "Here Cora, see the fort Momma made for you?" Cora took a few steps toward the table and stopped, looking back at her mother. Seeing the girl's reluctance she said, "Pretend it's one of the castles I read to you about."

"…a magic castle?"

"Yes. A safe, magic castle... Thaddeus and I are the knights."

"Am I...the princess?"

"You sure are."

"An' Joshwa's the prince?" Cora ventured. "Who's asleep?"

"That's right, baby." Sara made sure the girl was inside her 'castle' before moving back to Kid's side. "The table's thick. They'll be okay."

Kid had fortified the place the best he could and so he collected all the guns and made sure they were all fully loaded.

Spin. Click. Spin. Click. Spin. Click. Curry was meticulous with the weapons. Spin. Click.

Sara moved next to Heyes and took off the cloth, feeling his forehead again. He started shivering.

"Poor prince," Cora said softly, patting his arm.

"Thaddeus? Can you bring me another blanket from the chest?"

Kid looked over at his partner in the grips of a fever and hurried to grab one. "Will this work?"

She took the quilt from him and tucked it around Heyes. "It's perfect. Nice an' warm."

Sara watched Kid's normally impassive, calm expression struggle with emotions as he looked at his friend. When he saw her looking at him, the mask slid back over his face.

She gave him a small, gentle smile. "He'll be alright."

Kid looked away, nodding shortly.

"Kid…" Heyes moaned and thrashed out suddenly, making Sara jump. Curry was instantly on the floor, next to his partner.

Sara glanced at the two of them. "Cora, let's pick you out a night shirt and use the slop jar before it gets excitin' in here again."

She stood, picking Cora up and ducking into the back room to give Kid some privacy.

"Heyes?" Kid whispered, down close to his partner.

Heyes groaned and his eyelashes fluttered. "…kid…"

"I'm here, Heyes," Kid murmured. "Right here."

Heyes opened his eyes. He didn't exactly focus on him—no doubt he had a concussion—but he recognized Kid and smiled. "…hi."

Curry broke out in a relieved grin. "Hi."

Heyes, feverish, sat up and immediately collapsed. Kid caught him and lowered him down. "Easy there, where you goin', partner?"

Heyes shut his eyes in a full body wince. "…you…okay?"

"Why're you askin' me? I'm not the one lyin' on the floor half-dead." Kid put his hand on his friend's good shoulder, partly for comfort, partly for restraint. "How're _you_ doin'?"

"Terrible." Heyes started to close his eyes, then snapped them open, having remembered something. "Sssara…?"

Kid furrowed his brows as Heyes slurred. "She's fine, her and Cora are fine. You'd better get some rest, bud; you look like you need it."

Heyes managed a small smile. "You…don't look…sso great…yourself."

Kid shook his head. Heyes had started to look worse, if that was possible, since he'd been awake. He was glad to hear his voice, though. Heyes quiet and still for long periods of time—when not morose, planning, or reading—always worried Kid. "Save your energy for insultin' me for later. I'll be here if ya need me."

Heyes was almost back out. He closed his eyes then seemed to struggle back into consciousness. He grabbed Kid's hand. "Not…your fault."

Curry's eyes widened. "What d'ya mean?"

Heyes frowned. His grip slackened. "You _know_…what I mean…" He stopped talking to grimace as he shuddered relentlessly.

"Heyes, I hardly ever know what you're ramblin' about even when you _aren't_ feverish with a knock on the head," Kid replied evasively.

Heyes frowned. "I ssaid…wasn't…your fault…"

And then Heyes was back out, his hand limp. Kid sat there and held his hand tightly for a long time. He would have stayed there longer if he hadn't heard a large group of horses approaching at a furious pace.

"Sara, get in here." Kid stood up and pulled out his gun. She rushed in the room carrying Cora. They disappeared behind the table with Heyes.

There was the sound of loud voices outside and then it got suddenly quiet. Kid thought of how nothing good ever seemed to happen when it got suddenly quiet.

"You smell that?" Kid whispered after a moment.

"It's fire…" Sara replied. "Something's burning!"


	7. Chapter 7

"Hey in there!" A voice from outside called.

Kid waited.

"We know you're in there! You killt my men!"

"Men!" Sara yelled from inside her fort. "We didn't kill no _men_! _Men _don't shoot unarmed people or threaten lil' children!"

Kid gave a small smile at her outburst. It didn't, however, affect the men outside.

"We're gonna burn you outta there!"

Curry positioned himself cautiously, looking out the front window diagonally. He could stretch his arm out and shoot while being able to see but it was unlikely anyone could hit him. He watched a man holding a torch approach. Kid knocked out a square of the glass in the window and fired. The torch dropped and spluttered in the grass next to the fallen man.

"Keep tryin' to light us!" Kid yelled. "Makes it easy for me."

"We don't gotta light the house! The barn's afire! It'll spread to you in no time," the man yelled.

Kid grimaced; he'd feared as much.

"He's right, the barn's close," Sara said.

"You better come out!" The voice continued.

"To get shot?" Kid shouted. "You can't tell me you're gonna let us go after all this."

"It's better'n burnin' to death! Your choice!"

Curry glanced back at the makeshift barricade. "Sara?"

"Yeah?"

"'Bout how many men did ya hear? Ten?"

"Lots," Cora piped up.

"I think there's eight of 'em," Sara said.

_Hopefully seven, now_, Kid thought. He looked back outside. The burning barn lit up the front of the range with flickering orange and red light. There were four men on horseback spread out in the front. The one still lying immobile in the grass. That left two; he saw three rider-less horses that confirmed Sara's estimate. One for the dead man and the others for the other two.

Curry moved to the other large window, the one facing the back. Sure enough, there were two men on foot on either side of the back end. One was closer to the woods but the other had begun to move forward. Kid took aim and shot. The man was still out of range but the gunfire made him retreat.

"Don't approach 'em, boys!" The leader of the group yelled.

Sara crawled out into the open and stood. "Stay there, Cora. Thaddeus, give me a gun an' I'll watch the back."

After arguing about her safety, Kid surrendered a gun to her. She went to the back window but there wasn't any need. The men had all fallen back. _They just gotta wait, _Kid thought. _Shit. _

In the absence of any other audience, Cora was whispering to Heyes. Kid afforded a small smile. Heyes always was good with the young girls, even unconscious. Sara watched him; his expression was unreadable but his eyes showed the strain of worry.

"Sara? You got another way outta this cabin?"

"There's a dug out root cellar. The trap door's in Jimmy's—the big bedroom."

"Momma an' me an' Emma sleep inna loft," Cora added, helpfully.

Kid let himself have a little hope. "The cellar has a way to the outside?"

Sara nodded.

"Alright. Get in it."

"What about you an' Josh?"

Curry let out a long sigh and looked down, his expression dark. "Looks like I'm gonna hafta move him."

The acrid scent of the smoke was coming closer and closer. The barn was entirely engulfed, only the black frame visible like the skeleton of a massive animal. They didn't have much time.

Sara pulled Cora out of her 'castle' and held her in her arms. "You need help with 'im?"

The smoke made their eyes pool over with tears. "No, go on. Leave the way down open, though."

She nodded and headed out, grabbing only a small family photo. Then Kid and Heyes were alone.

Kid pushed up against the table and shoved the barrier away from his partner. He knelt down next to him and put one arm under his neck carefully. "Heyes, I'm gonna hafta move ya."

He put his other arm under his partner's knees. Kid moved slowly, despite the smoke, being gentle. Heyes moaned and Kid knit his brows as he lifted him. Once standing, he went fairly quickly to the back room. Sara had left the trap door open and he lowered himself to the floor, putting his legs in the hole.

"There's steps there, feel 'em?" Sara asked softly.

Kid reached out with one foot and found them. He stepped down into the darkness bit by bit. Sara pulled the trap door shut after him.

"How is he?" Sara asked. "Here, I grabbed this."

She put a clean, wet cloth on his forehead. Kid looked down at his partner, squinting in the dim light. Heyes' face wasn't restful like it normally was asleep; it was locked in a wince of pain. He looked even paler in the darkness and Kid held him close to try and stop the fever trembling that gripped him. "Not great."

She patted Kid's arm before moving up to the door that lead to the outside. Sara looked through a crack large enough to see clearly through.

"See anyone?" Kid asked, shifting his partner.

"One of those men's still there."

"Okay. Sara, when he's outta view I want you and Cora to run for the woods. Keep the gun you have but don't use it unless you hafta because the others will hear."

Sara nodded and kept watch diligently.

"You and Cora oughta try and head for the Johnson's again. It should be safe since all the men are here."

"What about you?"

Kid gave her his best reassuring smile. "If it's still safe after you've made it to the trees then we'll go. If not, we'll wait."

"You goin' to the Johnson's?"

Kid looked back down at his partner. "No. Too far."

"You can't carry him? I could help—"

"No, I can manage him; I don't think he can be moved that far. He's already bad off."

Sara nodded and bit her lip. "I know of a place but it'll be hard for you to get up to it."

"Anyplace is better'n out in the open."

"Could you get up some big rocks?"

Kid surveyed Heyes' still face. "I'll manage. Just tell me where."

She told him, describing the whereabouts of a cave in a rocky hillside. Just as she finished her directions she took in a quick breath. "It's clear! I can't see nobody!"

"Alright, open the door slow like."

Sara opened the door and they held their breath. Nothing moved. "Come with Cora an' me."

Kid hesitated. "The more of us that go off at once the more likely it is we'll get caught. You two go first."

"Alright." She got a good grip on Cora. "Thank you for everythin'. Be careful an' take care of Josh."

"I will."

"Bye Taddis." Cora waved. "Bye Joshwa."

"See you later, Cora. Take care of your Mom."

The girl nodded. Sara squeezed Kid's shoulder and moved to the door. She fled toward the woods carrying her daughter, her black hair whipping in the wind.


	8. Chapter 8

Kid watched her with his breath held; she made it to the edge of the woods just as one of the men walked back around the side of the house. Kid closed the door in a slow, deliberate movement.

He looked out the crack; for a moment he thought Sara had been caught but then she disappeared into the woods and the man didn't raise the alarm or go after her. _They made it._ Sara and Cora were on their way to being safe. The man was still in sight, though, so the two ex-outlaws were stuck.

Curry glared at the man outside, urging him to leave; his eyes were streaming and smoke had started to roll in from beneath the trap door. He jumped when Heyes thrashed in his arms, striking out with both hands, and he nearly lost his grip on him.

"Easy, easy, there," Kid said, fighting his partner.

"Whass…hap'nin'?" Heyes stopped struggling and flinched at the hurt he had caused his shoulder. "...kid?"

"I'm here, Heyes," Kid replied. "Idle down, will ya? I'm about," he grunted as he got a better grip, "to drop you."

"Whass…goin'…on?" Heyes' voice was thick, his words mumbled.

"Nothin' you needta worry about." Kid took his place as sentry, continuing to look out the crack.

"Izzat…smoke?" Heyes blinked his brown eyes and tried to focus on Curry's face.

"Yeah." Kid sighed. He was glad Heyes didn't seem to be delirious with the fever but right at the moment he had to concentrate. "The house is on fire."

"Oh." Heyes was still until he registered what his partner had said. "Wha..??"

"Shh, Heyes, quiet," Kid scolded gently. "We're gettin' out; we just gotta wait for the right time."

He might've been a lot slower than normal and half out of it but Heyes looked at Kid like _he_ was the one with the head injury. "…anytime's…right…ta go…whenna house…is burnin'…"

Kid looked down at his partner and gave a long suffering sigh. "I'm takin' care of it, alright, just take it easy."

"Oh…_right_…" Even disoriented, feverish, and mumbling, Heyes conveyed his sarcasm well. "..feel…_much_…better."

"Yeah? Well, next time _I'll_ get shot up an' _my_ brains beat out an' then _you_ can be in charge an' try an' get _me_ outta the fire."

"Nah…" Heyes took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. "I'd hafta…leave ya…too big…ta carry."

"Thanks. Keep it up an' I'll drag you."

Heyes gave a weak smile. After a minute he asked, "…kid?"

"Yeah."

"'m I…gonna…needta..." Heyes' voice was fading and he took a deep breath as he shook violently again. "Move? ...dunno…if…I can…"

"I've got ya, partner, don't worry about it." Kid's voice was worried, though. "Just rest. This is gonna be hard on you."

"'m…fine." With that pronouncement, he passed out again.

Kid frowned, brows knotted. Heyes needed to get rest. Soon. And, more to the point, the smoke was coming into the cellar at a rapid rate. Kid coughed and leaned Heyes against the wall so he could take the wet cloth and put it over his partner's mouth and nose. That accomplished he moved up against the door, close to the good air.

Finally, when Curry was feeling light-headed and his arms were getting wobbly, the man outside moved out of view. Kid coughed and pushed the door open. All clear.

He ran.

He moved as quickly as possible with Heyes as dead weight in his arms. They were basically large targets; Heyes was out and Kid couldn't pull a gun to defend them if he had to, not while carrying Heyes. Twice he stumbled over uneven ground but he managed to push himself back up and keep going. Kid didn't look at anything but the woods, expecting at any minute to hear a gunshot.

None came. He finally staggered through the first line of trees. As soon as he was in a little ways, he fell to his knees, coughing. After he could breathe, he looked down at Heyes. He could still see, the fire from the two buildings giving off enough light.

At first Curry thought Heyes looked better; the rag had slipped off showing that his face had a little color. But then he noticed the color was only to his cheeks and that the rest of his face was either bruised or white. Kid lowered his partner to the ground with care. After he was down, he pulled the cloth off him and put a hand to his neck. Even before he touched the skin he could feel the heat. Heyes was sweltering. The fever was getting worse.

"Hang on, Heyes," Kid whispered. He wanted to let his partner rest but knew that he couldn't chance it, not there. He lifted his partner and labored on into the forest.


	9. Chapter 9

Kid was tired. He'd been walking for around an hour, near as he could tell. His energy was lagging; he couldn't imagine how Heyes felt. At last they reached the rocky slope Sara had mentioned. It was a sort of diagonal cliff, rocks jutting out and trees growing from the cracks in the earth. Kid hefted Heyes up again to get a better grip on him. He squinted in the darkness, the rocks shining faintly white. It looked a lot steeper than he'd hoped for. Heyes started trembling again in his arms and Kid set his jaw.

"Just a little longer," Kid whispered. "Almost there."

Kid moved forward and stepped up on to the first rock, carefully keeping his balance. He high stepped up to the next slab and wobbled a little before regaining his poise. Heyes stirred in his arms and Curry started talking in a low voice, telling him to stay still and to wait a bit more. He kept up a string of reassuring conversation—talking to his partner was easy; not getting a response was not.

Kid leaned forward a tad and lurched continuously up the incline. He came to a rock wall dead end. He looked around; the cave was on the next height. He knew it; Sara had warned him. The top of the ledge was just at his eye level. He frowned and glanced around him. There was a boulder at the bottom that was tall but had a chunk broken off the side of it leaving a step of sorts. Curry hefted his partner and himself up and stood on it—the stone rocked with him. For a second, Kid panicked as he tried to gain his equilibrium. _Careful,_ he thought. He eased forward, standing on his tiptoes and balancing, feeling rather like an act in a side-show he'd once seen advertised. He began sliding his partner onto the ledge.

Heyes' hurt shoulder bumped against the rock and he groaned, flailing his arms automatically. Kid managed to thrust his cousin forward, safely onto the ledge. He, on the other hand, was already off balance and the rock tilted precariously beneath him.

Curry fell. He tumbled off the rock and down the slope before stopping himself by hitting a tree. He cursed and stayed where he'd landed a moment, in order to extract his heart from his throat. So much for not leaving any sign he'd been there. Kid hoped the rocks that had fallen with him would just look like they'd been in a big rockslide. For his part, he felt like he'd been in one.

Kid sat up, brushing the dust off and feeling for injuries. His thick jacket had protected his arms but he'd torn the left side of pants and scraped his leg. He touched his temple and winced; he had an abrasion there as well. Not to mention the multitude of bruises he knew would appear. Kid frowned at his own clumsiness and stood up. He promptly fell back, catching himself on the tree. Apparently his right ankle was also injured. He stifled a grumble and tentatively climbed the incline back to where he'd fallen from. Curry glared at the offending boulder before slowly getting on top of it.

He got a handhold on the edge and clambered over the top. Immediately, he got on his knees and checked his partner. Heyes had settled, but he was still feverish. Kid moved him further from the edge and eyed the black hole that was the cave. He half expected a bear to charge out and attack them. Nothing else for it, Kid stood and ducked into the entrance, his hand on his gun.

Nothing attacked. It was dark but there had to be a hole to the outside somewhere because he could dimly make out the walls. The cave was probably around five feet tall, ten feet wide, and nearly twenty feet long. After his eyes had adjusted fully, he found evidence of Sara's family having had used the cave for shelter during rained out picnics. There was an old fire pit, a small dilapidated stool, and a cast off toy. The human smell must have kept the animals away.

Satisfied, Kid limped out, lifted his partner with care, and stooped back into the cave. Once inside, he lowered Heyes to the ground, making sure not to jostle his shoulder. After Heyes was down he pulled off his coat and covered his feverish friend with it. He didn't mind the cool night, and besides, Heyes needed it more than he did. Kid settled down against the wall beside him and pulled out the barely wet cloth. He placed this on Heyes' forehead and stayed close, hoping his body heat would help beat his shivers.

Kid watched his partner shake. He kept him from rolling over and made sure the rag stayed on his head. Other than that, he had nothing to do. He was getting antsy. Curry frowned, pulled out the two guns from his belts and the one he'd shoved into Heyes' empty holster. He double checked them, more for the familiar feel of the metal than anything, and reloaded the one he'd fired. The dim light wasn't a problem; he would've been able to reload in total darkness. If he could have cleaned the firearms, he would have. Instead he inspected them and then put two of them back in his holsters. The one he'd had in Heyes' belt was left on the ground, in fear Heyes would roll over, cock the gun somehow, and shoot himself. It would fit in with the rest of the night. Even in the cave, the two ex-outlaws were fish in a barrel if they were found, but Kid couldn't do anything about it. Heyes had been moved too much already. They were staying.

Curry spent the first part of the night worrying. He refused to sleep, jerking out of his dozes. He kept the cloth on Heyes until it was entirely dry and then he just tried to keep him warm and still. He wished he knew how to doctor. Kid stared through the dark at his partner's pale face for so long his vision started to blur. He kept it up, though, he felt as though if he stopped watching, Heyes would slip away. So Kid watched and talked to him, murmuring until his mouth was dry. He was concentrating on his partner so completely that it took him a millisecond longer than usual to process that a noise had come from outside. A few pebbles skipped down the rocks—someone was there. Kid drew his weapon and moved in front of Heyes, closer to the entrance. He cocked the gun and waited.


	10. Chapter 10

Something moved at the entrance of the cave. Kid was ready.

"Thaddeus?"

Kid kept waiting; the voice was Sara's, but was she alone?

She ducked inside the cave, carrying what looked like a carpet bag. Although Kid held fast a moment, no one followed her. He flipped his gun back in its holster before she could see he'd had it out.

"Sara." He stood, took the bag from her, and helped her sit. "What're you doin' here?"

She smiled—he saw the white of her teeth in the dark. "Thought ya were rid of me?"

"It ain't that—"

"I know. I got Cora to the Johnson's. After Emma an' her quieted down an' got to sleep, I kissed 'em an' left."

"The girls are alright?"

"Yeah. I hated to leave 'em, but someone had to mother you two."

Kid looked down at Heyes and back over at her, running a hand through his hair. _Someone else to protect_. "I 'preciate the thought, Sara, but—"

"Oh, hush," she said. "Hand me the bag."

Curry complied. He was back in his position next to Heyes; Sara was sitting on the other side of his partner. "You climb all the way up with that sack?"

"Sure. Me an' Jimmy useta come here all the time. We'd bring the girls. He'd take 'em up one at a time an' I'd bring the picnic basket. 'Sides, a bag of stuff ain't near to what Josh weighs. I'm glad you made it okay; I uz afraid you two'd get hurt an' it'd be my fault."

Kid rubbed his scraped leg ruefully, remembering teetering on the rock while carrying Heyes. "It wasn't that bad a climb."

Sara pulled a blanket out of the bag. Kid tucked it around Heyes as she unloaded two flasks, a few canteens, and a hunk of cheese. "I got some clean rags, too."

Kid stared at her shadowy face.

Sara's teeth glinted again; she felt his stare. "Marybeth figured on what I 'uz up to. She heard me arguin' with Ted 'bout sendin' someone out for you boys an' then she saw me get the girls to sleep quick after, an' so she casually showed me where mosta this stuff wuz. Good thing she took a likin' to you. She's a strong…determined…type of woman."

Kid silently agreed.

"How's Josh?"

"Fever's worse." His tone was stoic, his strength evident, but his voice was chapped, raw with its continuous use of reminding Heyes that he still had a tie to life. Sara heard all of that in his tone and her heart felt and sympathized with the heaviness of Kid's own.

"I brought a flask of whiskey, a flask of soup, and two canteens of water. Here." She tossed the hunk of cheese into his lap. "I saved it when I ate at Marybeth's. I'm gonna wet a rag an' mop 'im down."

"A flask of soup?"

"Keeps it warm. I thought maybe Joshua could have some sips later on. Go on an' eat, Thaddeus. After that we can open the whiskey."

Kid blinked, started to say something and then stopped.

"To clean his shoulder with. Now go on an' eat 'fore I hafta spoon feed you."

Curry snorted, amused. "You got a spoon in that bag of yours?"

Her teeth flashed briefly. "You never know, I might. Finish all that cheese, now, you need your strength."

Faced with the no-nonsense, mothering tone of her voice, Kid ate the cheese, which tasted faintly of mothballs. He watched Sara wet a cloth and wipe Heyes' face after putting another wet rag on his neck. After Kid was finished eating, he moved behind Heyes and gently propped him up.

Kid grabbed a canteen and poured a little water into Heyes' mouth. With some encouragement, Heyes swallowed a few gulps but managed to look annoyed, even unconscious.

"Thank you, Sara." Kid said in the quiet, desperate voice he always had when faced with losing his partner.

She reached over and rubbed his arm. "You ready for the whiskey?"

The corners of Curry's mouth twitched upwards. "I _been _ready for it."

Sara laughed softly. "Alright, you unbutton him. No use getting his shirt soaked."

Kid undid Heyes' shirt and eased it off his shoulder. The wound was red; the black stitches leering in the dark like a grotesque mouth. The skin around the injury was a pinkish-red. Kid squinted worriedly but didn't spot any noticeable streak of red.

"Get a good hold on him," Sara instructed softly. "I'm sorry, Josh," she said to Heyes. "This'll burn."

She poured some of the whiskey over the wound, catching it with a rag after it ran over his injury. Heyes' tensed beneath Kid's restraint and muttered something, trying to turn over. Kid held him steady, his forehead crinkled, his blue eyes guilty. Sara poured the alcohol again and then took a cloth and dabbed the wound. Kid flinched along with Heyes. She buttoned Heyes' shirt and Kid released his hold, putting his coat back under Heyes' head and covering him with the blanket. Sara took a wet rag and dabbed all around his face.

"He oughta have some more water in a bit."

Curry nodded. Heyes grunted and reached out, muttering something.

"Here." Kid murmured, grasping his friend's searching hand. "I'm here."

Heyes stilled. Sara smiled at the two of them, her eyes wet. They reminded her of her relationship with Jimmy, but maybe closer, even. She swallowed. "Anythin' else you need? I can sit with him while you get some rest."

"No," Kid replied too quickly. Then, "No thanks, Sara, I couldn't sleep anyhow."

He'd be too busy worrying and planning to get even with the men responsible.

"Well…" Sara sounded hesitant and stood. "I…I promised Marybeth I'd come back soon as I was done helpin'. It uz the only way she'd let me outta the house without tellin' Ted. She said if'n I wasn't back afore mid-mornin', she'd send Ted out after me, leavin' her an' the girls alone with the hands. I…I don't know their hands…"

Kid frowned. She wanted to traipse about the woods alone again? "Sara—"

"I needta get back to my girls, it's just that I hadta make sure someone helped you boys. But please don't keep me from leavin'… If Emma or Cora wakes up an' I ain't there they'll be terrified, they'll never forgive me."

Kid sighed and stood, avoiding putting pressure on his bad ankle. "You didn't see or hear nobody in the woods?"

"No. An' if I came across someone there's always the six-gun." Her tone softened and her eyes pleaded. "Please, Thaddeus, please let me go."

He couldn't keep her here if she wanted to leave, not while watching his partner and taking care of him. She'd made it to the Johnson's before and realistically it wasn't really that safe in the cave. "You'll be careful?"

"I will. An' you two stay safe." Sara crouched down and kissed Heyes' cheek before moving over to Kid and embracing him. She smelled like the woods, like cedar. "You won't come back with me? I'll help with Josh an' we can rest a lot…"

Kid glanced at Heyes before looking back at her close, worried face. "You think it's okay to move him, his fever still goin' strong?" His voice was quiet.

There was a long pause as she squeezed him to her. "No," she exhaled the word in a sigh. "Best keep him still." She released him and moved back a few steps, her arms around herself for warmth or comfort. "I'll worry 'bout you two. Take care of Joshua but take care of yourself, too. You might could eat some of that soup. An' keep him cool, make him drink some water. None of the whiskey, though, not 'till his fever's broke. That'll be the sign he's getting' well, if the fever breaks…"

Kid nodded. "Get back to Marybeth's house safe an' send her my thanks."

"I will. I'll try to get Ted to send men to help you tomorrow; he ain't gonna send 'em in the dark. Be safe, now."

And she was gone as quick as she'd appeared, the scent of cedar lingering behind her along with the hope she'd brought him. Heyes had a better chance to get well with the supplies she'd brought. All Kid had to do now was get his partner through the night, get his fever down… After that, after he knew Heyes was out of danger, he'd finish what the rancher's had started.


	11. Chapter 11

The last part of the night had Kid worrying just as much as the first. He kept up his vigil of keeping an eye on Heyes, on making him swallow some water, on talking to him. Heyes' shivers seemed to decrease after a couple hours of the routine and Kid leaned back against the wall to take a much needed reprieve. He closed his eyes but stayed alert by sheer will, listening to the faint rustle of the quilt as Heyes chilled, paying close attention to Heyes' uneven breathing. He stayed in this half awake state for a time, leaning against the cold cave wall.

After a while, Kid jerked to attention. Something was wrong. Kid snapped out of his semi-conscious trance and sat up straight. Heyes. He was still. Eerily still. Not shivering at all. And his breathing wasn't the deep, labored rasp Kid had been used to hearing.

"…heyes?" Kid's voice was quiet as he put his hand to his partner's forehead; cool to the touch. Dawn had broken—it was more grey than black in the cave and Curry scrutinized his cousin. An abrupt fear seized him and he put his hand on Heyes' chest, unable to tell if he was breathing in the murky light.

"Heyes?" Kid asked again. His hand rose along with his partner's chest and Kid's shoulders relaxed. Heyes was breathing easier. He put his hand to his neck. It was warm but nowhere near the inferno it had been last night.

"Kid?" Heyes murmured and opened one eye before closing it, groaning.

"Yeah." Curry's voice was relieved.

"You here?" Heyes' voice, though better than the night before, was still a little muddled.

"I'm here." Kid gripped his friend's forearm. Heyes opened both eyes and squinted at the Kid before closing them again. Kid searched his partner's face; Heyes' forehead was still bruised and cut up but otherwise he had regained his normal color and his eyes seemed more focused than before. "How you feelin'? You want somethin' to drink?"

Heyes gave an exploratory stretch, wincing when he moved his shoulders. "I feel…better, I think."

"Your fever's broke." Kid held out the canteen pointedly.

Heyes gave a tiny shake of his head. "No more of that. Every time I came to you were chokin' me with water. Unless you've got whiskey, I'm done with drinking for now."

Curry considered giving him some of the alcohol but decided against it. "You were awake some of the time?"

"Sure." Heyes gave a mock scowl. "How could I sleep with you talkin' all night?"

Kid grinned. Heyes was definitely feeling better. "Think you could manage some soup?"

Heyes gingerly started to sit up and Kid helped him, propping him up with the sheepskin coat. Heyes raised his good arm and lightly touched the scrape on Kid's forehead. "What happened? You look awful."

Kid stared a minute before a smile spread on his face. "_I_ look awful?"

"Yeah. Did you sleep?" Heyes was surveying his friend's tired eyes, bruised appearance, and scraped up hands.

Kid shook his head.

Heyes frowned. "You ought to look after yourself better."

"Yeah." Kid agreed wryly. "How can I when I'm looking after you? Now do you want some soup or not?"

"Depends...did you make it?"

"Funny, Heyes. And no. Got it from Sara."

"Sara?" Heyes raised an eyebrow. "When was she here?" He gave a weak smirk. "She's not the reason you're tired?"

Kid gave him a look. "No. She was only here a minute to bring supplies. And save your life."

Heyes looked chastised and closed his eyes. His jaunty attitude was partially to cover up how horrible he felt. "Kid?" He asked, eyes still closed. "Where _are_ we? What time is it?"

"We're in a cave about a mile or two away from the Sterling's cabin. And it's dawn." Kid smiled; Heyes was alert enough to want his bearings and the time, which was always a good sign.

"How'd we get here?"

Kid avoided answering, pulling out the flask of soup instead. "Can you manage or you want me to help?"

Heyes took the flask. "I can do it so long as I don't move my shoulder." He took a sip and made an approving face. "How'd we get here?"

"The soup's good?"

"Yeah." Heyes looked at his partner sideways. "So. How'd we get here?"

Kid shook his head. Heyes was feeling well enough to be annoying. "Walked."

Heyes took another swig. "I sure didn't."

"I carried you." Kid said it lightly. Heyes paused from drinking and glanced at his partner, who was doing his best to avoid his glance.

Heyes gave a genuine, non-mocking smile. "Thank you."

Kid shrugged it off. "You'd have done the same…assuming I wasn't too big to carry, that is."

Heyes chuckled. He finished the soup in silence and handed the flask to his partner. He pulled the coat from under him and started to lie down but froze, grimacing. His fever was gone but his head ached and he still hurt everywhere, particularly his shoulder. Between the two of them, they got Heyes down and in a comfortable position, the coat for his pillow.

"Hey, Kid? What happened while I was out?"

Kid started at the beginning, when he'd found the camp, and told him a brief, unembellished version of the story. Heyes watched his partner, filling in the unspoken parts from Curry's voice and facial expressions.

"You got me out of a burning building, carried me a few miles, and saved Sara and her girls." Heyes gave a teasing, grateful smile. "Show off. Guess it's my turn to save your skin, next time."

"No." Kid shoved the flask back in Sara's bag. "You don't owe me." He wouldn't look at Heyes.

Heyes looked at him quizzically. "What, think I can't save _your_ hide…?"

Kid ignored him.

There was a pause and then, "It wasn't your fault, Kid." Heyes' voice was low. "I told you before."

"_I_ made us take the job," Kid's voice was angry. "_I_ left you in camp."

Heyes sat up quickly to argue and promptly fell over into Curry.

"What're you doin'?" Kid caught him and gently, but resolutely, lowered him again.

"I said it wasn't your fault before an' I'll say it again." It was Heyes' turn to sound annoyed. Annoyed and tired. "I'm the idiot who let himself get ambushed." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Don't you think I feel bad because I got hurt an' couldn't help you?"

"You wouldn'ta been hurt if I hadn't taken the job—" Kid started stubbornly.

"Kid, cut it out. We've both made stupid mistakes before and this mess wasn't anything I didn't agree to. So shut up."

Kid eyed him, giving his patented even Curry stare. Finally he asked, "Since when do you take my side in an argument?"

Heyes gave a tired half smile. "Since you've got such a bull head you think anythin' that happens, happens because of you."

Kid grinned. "You better stop talking and go to sleep—"

Heyes eyes were closed and he was breathing evenly. Kid patted his good shoulder, relief in his face. Heyes was getting better. Now all he had to do was finish what had been started.

Curry thought a minute and decided the first thing he ought to do was get a quick nap while it was still somewhat dark out. Revenge wasn't a thing to undertake without any sleep. He positioned himself a little in front of his partner, close enough to be able to hear if Heyes called while also near enough to the mouth of the cave to be alert to the outside. If anyone approached, Kid would know it sooner rather than later. He closed his eyes and for the first time recently was able to get to sleep.

The sound of hooves alerted him. _Horses?_

Kid was already up, his gun in hand, sleep cleared from his face. He crouched and moved toward the entrance.

"Kid?" Heyes sounded blurry with exhaustion. "Is that horses?"

"Yeah." It seemed the instincts the two had picked up while avoiding posses and being on the wrong side of the law were still with them. Kid glanced back. "Looks like we've got guests. Stay there, Heyes."

"Does it look like I'm movin'?" Heyes muttered, easily aggravated when an invalid.

Kid glared at him to illustrate his point. "I'm checking it out, so _don't_."

Heyes grumbled something under his breath. Curry got down on his belly and crawled forward, out of the cave and toward the edge of the overhang it sat on, his gun still in his hand.


	12. Chapter 12

The bluff Curry was on was a long ways from the ground. From this vantage point, the riders were just barely visible, dark in the shadow of the cliff. Kid waited with his gun back from the edge so it wouldn't glint and give him away.

For a long time, he watched. Watched below him and listened behind him; he needed to know Heyes was staying put. He counted six men on horses. Six riders, in and along the tree line in front of the clearing, all of them looking for tracks. Kid wished he had a rifle or a carbine—although he might not have been as accurate with them, at least he'd have known he could make the distance. It had been foolish to leave the one he'd confiscated behind. _Hell_, Kid thought, _I was stupid to get us in to this._

He regarded the men as they eased their horses closer. They were hired guns and not the men Ted was supposed to send. Kid was certain of it, even though he hadn't seen anyone close the night before and couldn't identify them by sight. He knew. The riders halted their horses in the middle of the clearing.

"..must be there…" A low voice floated up to Kid. The men were talking quietly; did they know they were there?

"…there's…cave…" More fragments of the conversation reached him.

Curry eased back from the edge and then stayed still. The men dismounted. Kid readied his gun slowly, his senses tingling, every nerve, every neuron aware. Should he take the first shot?

"Look at the rocks! They started a slide." A voice called out loudly. "They're up there for sure!"

"And now they know _we're_ here," a second man replied.

That was it for the Kid; he didn't wait anymore. He fired his gun in the middle of the horses. Most of the equines panicked, scattering in several directions, and the ones that were used to gunfire wheeled around and followed their companions, just as Kid had planned. The men ran for the trees. Kid considered a moment; he _could_ pick a few of them off. He shook his head and saved the ammunition. He'd shot at the horses to scatter them, but also because he didn't want to shoot a man without warning. Even those bastards.

Curry kept still and observed a single figure darting out after the horses. It would take him some time to gather them all up. So that left five guns to deal with for the time being. Kid stayed back and watched for movement. They wouldn't stay under cover forever.

A shot ricocheted off the rocks beside him and Kid swore, scooting backwards. He looked around quickly and shoved some of the rocks into a pile near the edge of the cliff. He got behind them, still on his belly. He should have had cover in the first place. _Well, at least I found out they've got a rifle_, he thought ruefully _Maybe a Sharps by the sound of it._ As long as he stayed behind the rocks, he'd be fine.

One of the gunmen peeked around the tree and fired his carbine. The shot didn't come close but the man fired again. Kid was alert, sensing that the gunman was distracting him. Sure enough, far to the right another man was running for the bottom of the cliff. Kid cocked his gun, waited till the range was right, and fired.

The runner fell to the ground at the same time the rifle fired. The shot hit the rocks in front of him and Kid winced involuntarily.

He surveyed the landscape. His aim was dead on; the sprinter lay on the ground holding his shoulder. He felt some satisfaction of having caused the same wound his partner had to one of the men who'd hurt distraction-man behind the tree had vanished and Kid had never laid eyes on the rifleman. Four men left to deal with, until the one collecting the horses returned.

A few minutes crept by. The Kid shifted, tired of being on his belly, though he'd stay there all day and all night in the same position if he had to. The injured man rolled on the ground and clutched his wound. Blood soaked his yellow shirt.

"Help me…" The man moaned. "It hurts, it _hurts_…sonuvabitch…"

A couple more minutes went by with the man pleading and Kid would have almost felt sorry for him—if he hadn't been thinking of Heyes hurt in the cave.

"Hey up there!" The leader from the cabin burning called out. "How about you let us help our friend?"

"You tried to burn us alive," Kid replied, loudly.

"Let us help our friend and we'll make a deal."

"After what you did to my partner?" Kid was incredulous. "Stick your nose outta those woods an' it'll get shot off."

A brown hat peeked around a tree and Kid fired. It was out of his range but it clarified his meaning. The hat disappeared.

"Please," the man on the ground rolled over to face the cliff. Kid sighed. "I'm bleedin' to death…I got a wife, damn you."

Kid frowned. "So start crawlin'—your legs ain't shot."

The man groaned and half crawled, half rolled to the edge of the trees. Hands darted out and pulled him into the woods.

Kid heard a rusting noise in the cave and glanced back but couldn't see anything. What was Heyes doing? After watching the dark entrance for a second, he turned back to the tree line.

Everything was still. They were probably tending the injured man. Kid stayed alert and thought out their position. He had three guns but one was back in the cave and all the ammo he had was on his belt. He'd fired three shots, leaving three in his gun and six in the one he still had holstered. He and Heyes had the advantage of height, but the men on the ground had a rifle, an unknown amount of bullets and supplies, and if the rifleman got wise and climbed a tree, there'd be trouble. At least Sara'd given them canteens with water, that was good, but Heyes was still weak and that wasn't. No quick getaways, no running for horses. They'd have to stay holed up and wait and see who lost their patience first and got out from behind cover.

"We got six men and there's only one, maybe two, of you!" The head honcho yelled, after a time.

"An' I'll pick you off one by one if you try an' come up here." Kid's voice, though raised so they could hear him, was calm and unconcerned, and he knew it got to the man by the swearing that followed.

The shuffling sound from the cave came again and Kid turned. Heyes materialized in the mouth of the cave. He was on his knees, his face haggard, and he was holding onto the stone looking like if he lost his grip he'd fall over.

"Heyes," Kid hissed. "What're you thinkin'? Get back in there." His voice didn't need to be loud to be angry.

"I wanted to see what's goin' on—how'd you like to be in a cave and hear me getting' shot at without knowin' what's happenin'?" Heyes' tone was belligerent, as usual when he was hurt or worried or both.

"I'm gonna _see_ you get shot at if you don't get back!"

"We're above—"

A few seconds before the rifle fired, Kid got into a crouch. When the shot rang out, he dove for his partner to knock him into the cave, into safety.

The partners fell hard into the darkness, tangled on top of each other.

Curry rolled over off of Heyes, and hurriedly got up on his knees. "Heyes?"


	13. Chapter 13

Kid peered down at his partner worriedly and touched his arm. Heyes groaned.

"You okay?" Kid bent over him, his voice torn between anger and worry, worry winning out.

"I'm alright." Heyes tried to sit up and the cave spun.

Noticing his cousin's dizzy look, Kid took him under the armpits and sat him up against the wall of the cave. "You didn't get hit?"

"No." Heyes put a hand on his head and leaned back, his eyes closed. "You coulda told me they had a rifle."

Curry snorted. "I _woulda_ told you if you'd gone inside like I said. What'd you think I told you to get back in here for? You think I wanted some privacy?"

Heyes sighed. "I guess going outside was kinda ill-planning on my part..."

"Yeah, it _was_ really stupid," Kid agreed. "You've gotta rest that head of yours before you let it do any more thinkin'." He grabbed the third gun and a canteen. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," Heyes replied. "How many are out there?"

Kid hesitated at the cave's mouth. "Four, maybe five, an' if I don't get back outside they'll be climbing up an' you'll see for yourself." He put the third gun in Heyes' hand. "Here."

Heyes opened his eyes and looked at the sixgun. "Dunno if I can see straight enough to help you shoot."

Kid shook his head. "You don't have to, just stay in here and rest."

"Then why the gun?" Heyes took off his gun belt and handed it to the Kid. "Take it for the bullets."

Curry slung the belt over his shoulder and put the canteen's straps around his neck, but he didn't take the gun back. "Keep the gun. In case."

"In case what?" Heyes asked doggedly.

"In case you keep getting' on my nerves an' I try an' shoot you," he muttered. Heyes glared, so Kid added, "Just in case somethin' happens."

Heyes frowned and studied his friend's face. "Is it that bad?"

"No." Kid replied easily. "Just thought that if…well, they got around me, you oughta have a gun."

"If they got around you?" His brain was still slower than usual and Kid was back on his belly and about out of the cave when Heyes understood what he'd meant. "Kid."

The dark blond turned his head. "Yeah?"

"Take the damn gun." Heyes' voice was angry and his brown eyes were narrowed—he didn't _like_ being worried.

"Even I can't shoot three at once." Kid gave a rueful smile. "Just keep it. Get some rest. An' if you decide to come out an' visit again, next time crawl on your belly."

"If you have three guns you can take more shots," Heyes insisted.

Kid obviously knew that but still ignored him. He eased back outside, crawling on his elbows to the pile of rocks. He didn't have to turn around to know Heyes was looking angry behind him. Let _him _worry for a turn. Maybe he'd think of a better plan than Kid had. Kid's stragety was: if it comes close, shoot it, don't let anything near the cave, and keep an eye out for the help Ted was supposed to send.

He looked at the treeline and didn't see anyone. A sinking sensation took over his gut. Where were they? Kid swallowed and peered around the rocks reluctantly, looking down. Sure enough, three of the men were climbing the cliff and one of them was awful close. Curry took aim but the rifleman fired and he had to dive back under cover.

"Shit," Kid muttered. He heard the closest climber scrambling around a few ledges below. Curry wondered how he was going to shoot the intruders when he'd nearly have to hang over the edge to do it and the rifleman wouldn't let him even get near the brink of the cliff.

And then Kid thought about the ledge right below him, the one with the large, wobbly rock. The large, wobbly rock that was big enough to hide behind. If he jumped down to that rock shelf, chances were that he could get behind the boulder, take the men out, and remain under cover. He could, though, get shot while jumping down. Or on his way getting behind the rock. And even if he made it and everything worked out, he'd be stuck on a level below Heyes.

Of course, with three men approaching him from different sides and probably waiting to attack all at once, even Kid's fast shooting wouldn't fix the situation if he stayed put—not with the rifleman apparently perched in the trees with some ammunition. If Kid killed all three while on the ledge with the cave, he'd still have to get out from cover to do all the shooting, meaning the rifleman would have a clear shot, meaning he'd be dead and Heyes would be in a mess of trouble. Kid pictured the rock shelf. How far down was it? Just about his height, so he probably wouldn't get shot on the way down.

"Heyes?" Curry called softty.

"Yeah?" Heyes replied from inside the cave. His voice sounded close, so he had to have stayed near the entrance, keeping an eye on his partner.

"You feelin' good enough that you won't need my help for awhile?"

"I'm okay, my main problems are my head bein' dizzy an' my sore shoulder. If I move slow and don't stand up, that takes care of my head an' the water's close enough so I don't hafta reach... Why?" Heyes was worried; he knew that tone of voice. Kid was thinking about something, something he didn't think Heyes would like, and generally Heyes _wouldn't_ like the type of plan Kid would come up with in this sort of situation.

"Good, that's good, I was just wonderin'." Kid made up his mind. "Be careful, Heyes. I'll see you later."

"What? What do you mean you'll see me later? You goin' on a stroll of some kind?" Heyes asked sarcastically. His next comment froze, though, when he saw the Kid get up in a crouch behind the rocks. Heyes, right then, _knew_. "Kid, don't!"

Kid gave the dark cave entrance a reassuring smile before he turned, leapt out from behind the rock pile, and jumped over the edge of the cliff with his gun drawn.


	14. Chapter 14

A rifle shot banged through the woods, making Hannibal Heyes flinch. Kid's gun fired next, there was another shot from a different six shooter, and then Kid fired again. The rifle sounded once more a few seconds later.

Heyes pushed himself off the cold cave wall and moved slowly, gingerly, toward the opening, staring at the spot where Kid had been. He paused, making sure to stay in the shadows, and strained to hear something, anything. After a moment—time to reload, he imagined—the rifle again fired. No answering shot from Kid. Just quiet.

Heyes felt a sheet of coldness fall over him. He was _so_ pissed at the Kid and _so_ worried about him. It was a familiar combination of emotions for Heyes, who knew it was a best friend's concern, a partner's exasperation, and the protectiveness of a cousin/brother.

"Kid?" Heyes called softly.

No answer. Heyes waited a few seconds. "Kid?"

Still nothing. He swore under his breath and looked down at the gun on the stone floor. Kid had told him to keep it "just in case somethin' happens" and "they got around" him. Heyes clenched his jaw. As though he would sit merrily in the cave and let them "get around" his partner. He jammed the gun in the back of his pants for lack of a better place to put it. Something was wrong. Hannibal Heyes was going to find out what it was.

He got down on his belly slowly, blinked hard to fight the whirling of his head, and propped himself up with his good arm's elbow. _Damn,_ but that shoulder hurt, even if he wasn't using it. The crawl outside wasn't going to be easy and was certainly not the best idea he'd ever had. He couldn't stay there and wait, though, not with the Kid needing him. Heyes gritted his teeth and did a rather awkward shuffle-stop with the dizziness-crawl-shuffle movement pattern out of the cave and toward the rock pile Curry had set up. He waited for another gunshot or for Kid to say something, but neither happened.

Heyes continued edging forward and was nearly there when the loud rifle fired and the shot kicked up dirt right next to him. Heyes started and then scrambled into a crouch and jumped the rest of the gap. He made it; the rifle's second shot ricocheted off the rocks in front of him, but Heyes had only a second to be grateful before his vision started swimming. He pulled the gun out of his pants and rolled over, flat on his back, holding his shoulder, waiting for his vision to clear. The sudden movement seemed too much for his head injury—blackness threatened to wash over him and the heavy throb in his stitches didn't help. _No,_ Heyes willed himself. _Do _not_ pass out._ Kid needed him, he was sure, but his head needed some ice.

Heyes closed his eyes tightly and then opened them, pleased when some of the darkness receded. He lay there, unmoving, letting his body recover. After a moment, during which he heard rocks skimming down the cliff-side, Heyes maneuvered himself up and onto his knees.

"Kid," Heyes hissed.

Pebbles slipped down the cliff, but nobody answered. Heyes frowned. _Kid…_He thought. _Please don't, don't be… _He cut off the thought. He refused to believe Kid was—the 'd' word—or even severely injured. No. But then why the silence? Heyes furrowed his dark brows and thought about the tricky situation, quite aware he wasn't back to his usual, genius self.

"Kid?" He asked again, plaintively.

_Damn._ The Kid wasn't answering but he had to be right below him. What to do? Heyes peered around the rocks carefully, looking down. Kid had taken care of two of the men who'd been climbing up after them. One had fallen down the cliff-side and lay still, tangled in a tree, and the other had left a trail of blood that headed toward the woods. There was still one man on his way up, though, being very careful to duck behind rocks or trees as he progressed. He was getting closer to Kid's position. Heyes swallowed and forced himself to turn and look at the ledge that held Kid. _Please._

He could just make out two booted feet. Kid was pressed against the back of the ledge in the shelter of a large boulder. Heyes frowned—he couldn't see all of the Kid, not without getting out from behind cover. He stared at the familiar boots, waiting for movement.

"Kid," Heyes whispered hoarsely, staring at Curry's feet. The boots didn't move. Not at all. _No… _

Heyes felt dizzy again, but this time it wasn't just because of his head. He put a hand on the rocks in front of him, bracing himself. Kid wasn't dead. He-he just had to be hurt, unconscious. Of course, that wasn't good either--not with a hired gun on his way toward him. Heyes couldn't shoot the man, not from behind cover, and the rifleman was only too eager to hit him if he tried. He ran a hand through his dark hair and thought. Would his head be able to deal with a jump down to the other ledge? It didn't seem like he had any other option—they were well past the stage of negotiation. _Hang on, Kid,_ he thought.


	15. Chapter 15

Heyes was creeping around the rock and getting ready to jump down when a pebble hit his arm. He stopped. Sure enough, a few seconds later another small rock flew up the cliff toward him. Heyes looked down at Kid's feet. The left boot moved very slowly, once, and then again. Heyes let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

Kid was okay. He was signaling him to let him know he was all right. He must've stayed quiet because the hired gun was so close and he hadn't moved in case the man could see his feet, which were sticking slightly out of the shelter of the boulder. Heyes was relieved and about ready to abandon his former plan of leaping down to help his partner when another thought occurred to him. If Kid really _was_ okay, why had it taken him so long to respond?

Heyes frowned. Kid was hurt, was that it? Surely if the Kid was hurt really badly he'd let him know. _Then again…_ Heyes decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to leap down just to see if his stubborn, worrisome partner was alright. A second after he came to that conclusion, he wondered if Kid had read his thoughts because another pebble sailed up and hit him in the forehead, reminding Heyes of the reason he'd been loathe to jump. Heyes grimaced and grabbed his pounding head, putting a hand on the ground to make sure he stayed balanced in his crouched position.

Okay, so he'd wait. Because Kid had signaled him, he knew he was alive, and his head felt like it was going to explode, he would wait. But he would watch, too. Heyes stayed in a crouch and peered around the rock, keeping an eye on both the booted feet and the approaching gunman.

The man was nearly to the ledge. Heyes edged out a little more, wary of rifle fire, so he could better see what was going on. The hired gun made a leap to the shelf next to Kid's and stayed behind a tree, watching the boots. They didn't move. The man wasn't entirely stupid; he kept his weapon out as he leapt over to Kid's position. But his gun, while he was jumping, tilted downward, and thus Curry had the bargaining chip when the man landed and found two sixshooters pointed up into his face. Heyes gave a relieved grin.

"Drop it." Kid's voice was calm and even, but Heyes frowned. There was an undertone in Kid's voice, one that was only present when he was in pain and trying to hide it.

The gunman stared down at Kid and glanced at his own weapon, which was pointed down and to the left. Kid had the clear advantage.

"Drop your gun."

The hired gun was bowlegged, fit the stereotypical look of a cowpuncher down on his luck, and he held his weapon the same way he'd clutch an angry steer. The man's nervousness made Heyes nervous—it was always the edgy ones that made stupid moves. "I thought you were dead," the man said, almost whining. "I saw you get hit."

"It don't really matter since I'm the one with my guns cocked." Kid's voice was hard. "Drop your Colt and get ready to head back down. Don't even think about pullin' the gun you got hid."

Heyes gave a wry smirk--he was sure, because Kid thought it, that the cowpuncher did have a concealed weapon. Kid's instincts in that regard were extraordinary, like Heyes' were about poker or a bank/railroad job.

The down-and-out cowboy frowned and let the gun in his hand fall to the rocks.

Curry kept his cool blue stare and his guns trained on the man. "Alright, reach for the other one with your left, real slow."

The cowpuncher cursed and started slowly to pull out a derringer he had hidden inside his sleeve, when an unexpected rifle shot winged through the air. Heyes furrowed his brows—that hadn't been aimed at him or the Kid, so where…?

The rumble of falling rocks above him answered his question. Heyes swore. Apparently the rifleman finally decided that if he couldn't shoot the partners, he could shoot the cliff they were on and start a landslide.

Heyes didn't have time to think any further than that; he was too busy rolling out of the way of a group of rocks, dust, and debris that barreled down at him. He managed to grab onto the gun Kid had given him. Just as his hand grasped it, a branch thudded into his back and Heyes cried out. Darkness threatened to wash out his vision but he managed to struggle up to his feet shakily, his good arm over his head, still clutching the gun. Figuring the rifleman couldn't see to shoot with all the dust in the air, Heyes ran in a wobbly line to the brink of the cliff, squinting, keeping himself conscious by sheer will, looking for his partner.

"Kid," Heyes yelled, the dust in the air choking him. He blinked to clear his fuzzy vision, and saw that Curry had jumped out from under the stream of rocks, but he was doubled over and holding his side. Heyes frowned, his brows furrowed. At least Kid had managed to get behind a thick looking tree to protect himself until Heyes could get to him...

And then Heyes saw something else through the cloud of white dust that terrified him.

The cowpuncher had also managed to avoid most of the slide by taking cover under an overhang, he'd brandished the derringer and had it pointed at the Kid. Heyes couldn't hit the man from the angle he was in, not for sure, not with all the falling rocks. He swore again, and acted before he thought.

Hannibal Heyes leapt down to the next ledge and fired his gun at the hired killer. Somewhere in the space of time after Heyes shot his gun and before he landed, he heard Kid's gun fire, dimly heard Kid yell his name, and then the roar of the slide engulfed his ears and the world went black again.


	16. Chapter 16

Dark. It was dark. Hannibal Heyes awoke to darkness. Was he blind? He tried to sit up and fell back groaning. He took a moment and assessed his wounds; his head was a definite casualty, _again_, his ribs were bruised, and he felt his shoulder oozing blood between the stitches. And where was his partner?

"Easy, Heyes," Kid's voice murmured from nearby, seeing Heyes moving and anticipating his question.

The bandanna over Heyes' face slipped down and he could see again. Mostly. The air was thick with chalky dust, the aftermaths of the slide, and besides that, his vision was blurry. Heyes blinked and then squinted. His eyes reluctantly focused, but he was seeing double. They were under a tree on the side of the cliff. Either that or they were under two trees on two cliffs and Kid had an identical twin they hadn't known about.

"Kid?" Again Heyes tried to sit up, but when he moved it felt like a passel of fireworks exploded behind his eyes so he froze. Jumping down in the middle of a rock slide hadn't helped his head any. "What happened?"

"Stop moving, Heyes, you hurt your head again." Kid sounded the usual miffed and worried, but there was underlying pain in his voice, too. Heyes remembered Kid had been doubled over when that cowpuncher was about to shoot him.

Heyes slowly, gingerly turned his head to look at his partner. "How bad you hurt?" Kid was flattened against the cliff, his left hand pressed down to his bloody side. "Kid, you're _hit_—"

"No foolin'," Curry muttered, putting his right hand down on Heyes' chest, restraining him. "Stay still," Kid ordered. Then, in a lower voice, "I'm okay, Heyes, the blood's mostly stopped."

"_Mostly_ stopped?" Heyes pushed Kid's hand off. "Help me up, will ya?"

"No. Stay down before you hurt your head worse. 'Sides, that rifleman's still out there as far as I know."

"Alright, I'll get up on my own." Heyes shoved himself up and swayed.

Kid scowled and reluctantly helped his partner sit up, leaning against the rock wall. "Of all the stubborn," he muttered.

Heyes took in several sharp breaths and then turned to look over Curry—or, as his vision suggested—Currys. Heyes closed his eyes for a long minute and then opened them; his vision was still a little blurry but he'd stopped seeing double. Kid was keeping his hand on the wound so that Heyes couldn't see it.

"Lemme see," Heyes said.

Kid set his jaw. "You shouldn't be up, you're gonna jar what brains you got left."

"I've…got plenty to spare," Heyes replied, wincing as he leaned over his partner, careful not to move his injured shoulder. He stretched and pulled Kid's hand off his side.

Heyes could hardly see the actual wound for the blood. His own injuries suddenly seeming inconsequential, Hannibal Heyes grabbed the bandanna that had been over his face and shoved it down hard on Kid's side, wiping away the blood so he could see.

"Ow, Heyes, watch it," Kid snapped. Heyes ignored him and peered at Kid's bruised and bloody side. There were actually two holes—the place where the slug had gone in and the exit wound. The punctures looked nasty, the skin jagged, blood seeping, but Heyes thought the bullet had avoided any organs since it had gone in diagonally and then straight out. The bleeding apparently _had_ slowed down since it was merely oozing where it had obviously poured before.

"Jesus, Kid," Heyes said. "Why didn't you tell me you got hit?"

Kid shuddered and pushed away Heyes' hand. He grabbed the bandanna and pressed it to his side. "Couldn't. I hadta keep quiet an' let the guy git up here, not knowin' if I was dead or not. 'Sides," Kid gave him a sideways, ironic look, "I didn't want you jumpin' down the mountain an' killin' yourself."

"_I'm_ not the one bleedin' to death," Heyes retorted, reaching in his pockets and pulling out another bandanna. "Here." He gave it to his partner and moved to help, but Kid shook his head.

"I got it, I'm puttin' pressure on it, you just sit back and try not to move," Kid insisted in a proddy tone of voice.

Heyes frowned and looked at Kid's stubbuorn, stony expression. He leaned back against the rock wall but kept an eye on the Kid. It always was troublesome when they were both injured. "So what exactly happened?"

"I got hit before and when I jumped outta the way of the slide it didn't help my side any. Next thing I know, you're flyin' through the air."

"Did I hit him?"

"Yeah. You winged him and he fell back. The rocks finished him. Nearly finished you, too." Kid gave his cousin another look. "That was some stunt."

Heyes gave a tired half-smirk. "With you being so heroic lately, I thought I'd take a turn."

"Yeah, well," Curry said. "You ain't that good at it."

They both smiled at each other. The dust finally started to clear and they both watched the trees, looking for the glint of a rifle.

"Heyes?" Kid asked after awhile.

"Yeah, Kid?"

"You hear somethin'?"

They both stopped and listened hard. There was a bunch of horses headed their way. The partners looked at each other.

"I hope that's Ted bringing the calvary," Kid said.

Heyes nodded. "It has to be. It can't be more of them. Not after all of this."

"Don't say things like that, Heyes, you'll jinx us."

"Kid, we're already jinxed."

Heyes watched his partner steadily—he knew that if it was trouble heading their way, Kid would try and handle it on his own. Kid, for his part, kept an eye on his older cousin. Knowing Heyes, he'd write an injured Kid out of the fighting and try to manage the situation without letting Kid help.

They both sat back under the shelter of the pine, and watched the trees, waiting for the horses to arrive.


	17. Chapter 17

The riders were approaching; the rapid pounding of hooves was getting louder and louder. Kid Curry cocked his already reloaded gun and handed the extra one to his cousin, who had lost his in the slide. Hannibal Heyes, keeping his injured shoulder stiff, cocked the gun and leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment.

"We're in some shape, aren't we?" Kid asked, looking over Heyes' head wound, shoulder, and bruises, and keeping his own free hand shoved down on his side. Both partners were pale and their eyes met. The two shared a rueful smile.

"Seems kind of familiar, doesn't it?" Heyes asked, with an ironic lilt in his voice.

"_Too_ familiar," Curry replied, handing over Heyes' gun belt.

Their conversation was cut off when the riders galloped their horses to the edge of the woods. The treed rifleman fired-a horse screamed as it fell. Kid moved gingerly forward and peered around the tree, gun ready. Heyes sat up and started to move forward with him but Kid held up his hand, giving Heyes a _Stay There!_ look.

The edge of the woods was chaos. The horsemen were all circled around the tree the sharpshooter was in and all at once they were firing. The rifle thundered but there were a lot of riders with six shooters and carbines and eventually the rifleman crashed out of the tree. The man hit the ground and bounced once, then landed with his limbs askew. Kid grimaced. The horses swirled around, surrounding the limp form. Apparently the riders were satisfied with the results because they left the man lying there and regrouped to talk. Curry couldn't hear any part of the group's conversation because a clatter had risen from the woods. A horse pulling a cart appeared and the man at the reins yanked it to a stop.

"You thinkin' what I am?" Kid looked back at his partner who had just finished putting on his gun belt.

Heyes nodded but said, "Let's wait and see."

The group of riders rode off, all but one man on a black mare and the wagon driver. The lone horseman headed in their direction and Kid kept his gun ready. Heyes was still up against the cliff wall.

"Jones?" A scratchy voice called. "You alive up there?"

Heyes furrowed his brows. He didn't recognize the voice and looked at his partner; he saw from the Kid's expression that he knew the man.

"That you, Ted?"

"Yep. I brought the cavalry. You can come on down here," Ted replied.

Kid nodded at Heyes, who looked wary, but at his partner's reassurance, Heyes gave his own slight nod. He trusted Kid's judgment.

The two reforming outlaws started down the slope. Heyes held on to Kid and Kid held on to Heyes—they weren't sure exactly who was supporting whom. They leaned on each other as they navigated the rough, down hill cliff. The rock slide hadn't helped the stability of the terrain any and several times they had to stop and steady their footing. Heyes and the Kid figured they must have made a sad looking pair because Ted got off his horse and started up to help them.

Suddenly, the rock the partners were standing on slid slightly to the side and Heyes lost his balance, slipping backwards. Kid grabbed his partner to keep him from falling and the sudden movement jarred the rock. It veered entirely out from under both of them and Curry fell hard on the stone while Heyes landed hard on him.

"That was…" Heyes rolled off his partner, grabbing his shot shoulder. He looked over at Kid, who had become even more pale after Heyes hit his side. "Counter productive."

Curry groaned and clutched his side. "I'll say." He sucked in a breath. "Next time you fall over," he said breathlessly. "I might hafta let you."

Heyes pushed himself up and leaned over his partner. "Next time you catch me, try to stay upright," he replied.

"Deal," Kid said, taking another slow breath.

"You okay?" Heyes squinted, his vision again blurry, at his partner's hand that held the front wound in his side. Blood was oozing between his fingers and the back of his shirt had a large wet spot.

"Yeah," Kid said. "Your head alright?

"Yeah."

Kid looked at him. "Your shoulder?'

"It mighta reopened—but I'm more worried about your side."

Ted reached them and held out his hand. He helped Heyes up first and then Kid. He stood between them, making sure neither fell. After a few minutes, they made it safely to the ground.

"Dang, Jones, you got shot, too? I heered they hit yer partner." Ted looked over at Heyes. "I sure am glad you two are alright—Miss Sara would've kilt me if either of you boys were dead."

"Sara said you might come," Kid said casually.

"Bet yer wonderin' what took me so long," Ted replied.

Heyes looked at his partner sideways, but didn't say anything despite what he was thinking.

"Well," Ted continued. "That bunch that rode off has the sheriff and his men innit."

"The Sheriff?" Kid asked.

"Yep. I rode all night to get to the next town over, Sagelick, an' I roust a posse that ain't local." Ted scratched his brown hair.

"Where they headed?" Heyes asked in an easy tone of voice. It seemed like they were running into more and more lawmen these days.

"Goin' after the ranchers what started this. We caught up with the man who had the horses an' knocked some sense into 'im—he talked." Ted jerked a thumb to the wagon. "Go on, you two, the cart's fer you."

Heyes and Curry limped to the vehicle.

The man in the driver's seat stepped down and stuck out his hand. He was older than Ted, probably in his fifties, with wiry grey hair and a lean frame with tough muscle. He had a thin face with a nose like the beak of a bird of prey. "The name's Tate, short for Tatem." He shook hands with Kid and then Heyes.

"I'm Thaddeus Jones," Kid said. "This is my partner, Joshua Smith."

Tate gave them a nod. "I heard what you boys done for Miss Sara and her lil' ones." He thumped Kid on the shoulder and patted Heyes' good arm.

Before they could respond, Ted grinned and said, "They're good boys," as though he had personally sired both of them. He jerked his head toward Tate. "Tatem here's my top hand. He's gonna drive the wagon to take yer back."

Ted walked away and headed toward the cliff. Heyes started over to the front seat of the cart, but Kid moved in front of him and shook his head.

"You've hit your head enough lately, Josh. You're liable to fall outta there so you're stayin' in the back."

Heyes opened his mouth to protest, but Tate interrupted.

"You're _both_ gettin' in the back; I promised Miss Sara I'd look after you an' more to the point I promised _Mrs. Johnson _the same and as you both look ready to fall over, you're getting' in the back an' laying down." Tate crossed his arms. Heyes looked at Kid and then at Tate and gave up, sighing and swallowing his ego. His head _did_ hurt and his shoulder wasn't too great either.

Kid held out longer but the old timer was giving him the eye. Curry decided to give in even though he still thought his famous stare could beat just about anyone. Still, Tate had said Sara made him promise to watch after them and if lying down in the back would keep him in Sara's good graces then he'd lie down. Besides, he figured, in the back he could make sure Heyes didn't do anything stupid.

Both men walked to the back of the cart. It took them a while to get up into it; Kid moved carefully because of his side and Heyes was just as slow with his shoulder and head injury. Ted appeared at the foot of the wagon and tossed in Sara's carpetbag and Kid's sheepskin coat.

"Here's yer stuff."

"Thanks, Ted." Kid took his jacket and gave it to Heyes to put under his head. Heyes, in turn, rifled through the pockets and got out a bedraggled bandanna and gave it to Kid for his side. They both settled back down and Tate shut the back of the cart.

"You boys okay headin' back without me?" Ted asked, his look guilty. "I'd like to see some of the action at the ranches…"

"We'll be alright," Tate replied. "Your wife and Miss Sara will see to that."

"Tell them I'll be back by late tomorrow. We gotta roun' up the prisoners an' take 'em back to Sagelick."

Tate nodded and got up in the driver's seat. The horse pulling the cart pawed at the ground in anticipation. Ted mounted his black mare and held up his hand before taking off in the direction the others had gone. Tate slapped the reins and the horse started forward.

The ride jolted them all around the back of the cart. Heyes was thrown into Curry's injured side and they both grimaced.

"S-sor-r-r-y," Heyes said, his teeth rattling along with the wagon.

"Hold on, fellas, the ride's gonna get rough!" Tate yelled.

Heyes and Kid glanced at each other, each of them knowing what the other was thinking—_Wasn't it already? _

Tate glanced back at them and hollered, "We're gonna make time!"

The bouncing increased and again the partners shared a look. It was the last one they shared for awhile, though; they banged into each other and the sides so much they couldn't concentrate on anything except trying to avoid obstacles.

It seemed like it was hours later when Tate pulled back on the reins and the horse slowed down to a walk.

"We're here," the driver said. "I'm pullin' up to the barn now."

Heyes and Kid shared a relieved look—Heyes was seeing stars and Kid was as pale as a snake's belly scales. They were glad to be getting out of the cart and were on their way to rest and relaxation. Heyes quirked a smile to Kid, who grinned in return.

They certainly didn't expect the gunshot that cracked through the air.


	18. Chapter 18

Tate slumped over in the driver's seat and a second later a chunk of the wagon's side was blow away, scattering splinters in all directions. The moment the six-gun sounded, the partners had flattened against the wooden planks of the wagon, relieved it was double boxed and gave them some protection.

They didn't have time to do anything else; the horse bolted, jarring Heyes and the Kid together once again and preventing them from jumping out. Curry and Heyes shared a look. After a few seconds of silent communication, they edged forward simultaneously. Heyes was to get ready to grab the brake if necessary and Curry would try and get a hold of the reins and stop the horse. Better that the reins stopped them; the brakes could easily cause the wagon to crash.

Kid had a flash of their bodies tangled in shattered wood and shook his head—the pain of his side and the blood loss was getting to him. Heyes looked sideways at his partner, his mouth tight, and took the lever in his hand and waited. He had seen Kid's woozy look, seen it and worried about it.

The bouncing driver's seat seemed awfully high as Kid watched it. He lunged upward to grab the unconscious man's jacket and looked frantically for the reins, but they had fallen out of reach. Kid scowled; Heyes would have to pull the lever and the driver's seat was the worst place to be if the rig crashed.

"Kid?" Heyes asked, voice raised over the pounding hooves and rattling wagon.

"The reins are gone," he replied, attempting to muscle Tate over the driver's seat. Heyes swore and got onto his knees. The two of them got the unconscious man into the back.

Kid looked at Heyes and Heyes looked at Kid. It was possible they would crash and it was possible that if they survived the wreck the shooter might get them. As always in that type of situation, each of them secretly hoped, on a quiet, hidden level, that either they would both survive or they would both die. Preferably the former, but the latter would be better than being left; they were home to each other.

It had been that way ever since they had left their farms burning, since their notion of family had become mostly blood and death and loss, since they had been two frightened waifs in a world where bodies littered the ground and the only open road led to an orphanage with too many restraints, little kindness to offer, and a world of labor and pain. Heyes and Curry held each other's gaze for a moment and then Heyes yanked on the brake lever.

The wheels of the wagon locked and the frightened horse didn't stop and the world tilted as the wagon did. For a moment, they hovered like a dragonfly over stagnant water. Then there was blindness and pain and black and then red, fire, tearing, and no sound or maybe too much sound at once, then nothing. Stillness.


	19. Chapter 19

A gun blasted, loud and sudden. Kid Curry let out a groan, still mostly unconscious.

And then a strange voice said, "Get up."

Kid grunted and tried to sink back into the warm, dark place he had been but suddenly his side was on fire and he was twisting in the grip of the pain. His blue eyes opened; something had hit his injured side.

"I said get up." A man stood over him holding a six shooter and pointing it at his head. A smear of blood on his boot told revealed that he'd kicked Kid and backed away.

Curry was alert now, irrevocably alert. He was lying near the upside down wagon, the shooter was standing over him, and his gun was gone. Yet his first reaction was to look around him at the wreckage, searching for Heyes.

Instead, he saw Tate lying half under the back of the upside down wagon. Dead, Kid thought, judging from the lake of blood spread out under him. The gray horse lay on its side with its legs twisted under it at odd angles and a bullet in its forehead. Heyes wasn't in sight so either he was on the other side or he was underneath the wagon.

The man with the gun picked up a long sliver of wood that had broken off of the wagon, still holding the sixshooter in his right. Kid shifted his gaze to him just as he slammed the board into Kid's side. Immediately, Curry doubled over, feeling like lighting had jolted through his body and scorched his insides.

"Do I have to tell you again?"

Kid rolled over into a sitting position and put his palms on the ground, steadying himself. He took a few slow breaths. He was trying to get control of his pain, yes, but also the anger he felt boiling under his skin. Kid was tired—tired of people trying to kill him and Heyes, tired of looking at the barrel of a gun, and tired of restraining himself. Nevertheless, he didn't have a weapon or an opportunity at the moment so he assessed the damage. It felt like he'd bruised some ribs, his ankle was definitely out of commission and his right knee had been cut open, the wound leering through the tear in his jeans. Of all of this, the two holes in his side where the bullet had torn through were the cause of the most physical pain and the gunman hadn't helped that any. After breathing in and out a few times, he narrowed his eyes and stared at the shooter.

The gunman watched him struggle to a sitting position and was surprised to see the look he received wasn't afraid or exploding with anger; no, the look was dry ice that was so cold it burned, it stuck to your skin and you couldn't get it off. He shook his head slightly. "Now stand."

Kid hesitated, weighing the option of lunging for the man's feet and tackling him. If he were Heyes, he'd say something such as, 'you've made a mistake, sir, my partner and I are harmless cowhands' or the like, but the Kid stayed silent.

"My colleague is in the house keeping the ladies and the children company. You can imagine what will happen to them if I don't come back."

Resolutely, Kid shoved himself upright, swaying for a second. The gunman with the gun spoke in an elegant, educated voice and Curry knew he was either the owner of a ranch or the son of an owner. Kid glanced again at the wagon, thinking about Heyes. To his surprise, the educated man nodded and gestured to the wagon with his pearl-handled gun.

"Go on, get your friend."

Kid's face remained stone as he limped, listed toward the wagon, his heart in a knot at the possibilities of what had happened to Heyes. He put his arms under Tate's armpits and pulled him all the way out from under the cart—unable to let the wagon squash him as he turned it over—and he found that indeed the foreman was dead. Kid sighed and pulled him further from the cart, then took off the man's bandanna, putting it over his face. He had just met Tate but the foreman had seemed like an okay guy, a steady worker, if a little enthusiastic about driving fast, and he hadn't deserve to die.

"Hurry up."

Kid ignored the ranch owner or ranch owner's son and moved over to the other side of the wagon; Heyes wasn't there, so he had to be under it.

"Heyes?" Kid whispered, dropping onto his knees. He shoved as hard as he could, trying to tip the cart. Pain shot through him everywhere and his vision darkened briefly, but he kept shoving and finally the wagon tilted enough so that he could see Heyes under it. Curry kept his shoulder pressed into the wagon and reached under it to pull his partner out.

As soon as Heyes was clear, Kid let the wagon fall back down to the earth, the movement jerking the dead horse harnessed to it and shooting a cloud of dust into the air.

"Remember, my friend's inside," the man called, afraid Kid would try something.

Kid, however, was focused on Heyes. He bent down next to his cousin; he was breathing. Heyes didn't seem to have many more injuries than he'd had before, but the old injuries had almost definitely gotten worse; his stitches were torn and his shoulder was bleeding. His head didn't have any new cuts or bruises, but Kid figured he had a bigger concussion. Curry pressed down on the open shoulder wound to staunch the bleeding and heard the gunman stomping behind him.

"He's alive? Get him up, then."

"He's hurt," Kid said evenly, his anger under the surface, his face and eyes still frozen flint. "He's not awake."

"You want _me_ to wake him up?"

Kid thought of his side getting hit and shook his head slightly, looking back down at Heyes. "Hey partner, time to get up."

He wasn't sure he could physically do it, but he leaned down and grabbed Heyes under his armpit and pulled to try and get him up anyway. Curry nearly fell over with the limp weight, but he somehow got Heyes' good arm over his shoulder. Kid pushed and pushed upward and managed to get to his knees with Heyes pulled up into an almost sitting position. "C'mon, bud, you gotta help me here," Kid muttered. He took a deep breath and shoved upward, managing to get them both into a standing position. The Kid was panting with the effort and had bolts of pain in his side and ribs, but he was up and he had his partner up.

"Alright, drag him to the cabin there."

_Drag him? _Kid stared defiantly at the man and, one arm still holding Heyes' upper body, he bent down and picked his partner up under his knees. He staggered a few steps but straightened, a warm sensation at the holes in his sides telling him he was bleeding again.

The man with the gun looked at Kid, who was shaking with the effort and the blood loss and had become suddenly pale, and his face held a hint of admiration. "However you get there," he said. "Go to the cabin."

Kid started walking, every step an effort. He had nearly made it when his legs gave out and he sunk onto his knees. Gritting his teeth and letting out a curse, he shoved himself up and made it to the front door.

"Matt, open up," the gunman called, and the door of the cabin swung open. Curry mustered his strength and stepped inside.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Author's Note: **Hey guys, I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this updated. It's amazing the stuff that can happen in half a year. Lots of personal life issues, but things should be back on track for a while. Anyway, thank you to all of you who have reviewed this and watched it. I really appreciate it! 3_

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Sara Sterling and Mary Beth Johnson were sitting at the kitchen table with two small cups in front of them. If Mary Beth hadn't been gagged and Sara's pretty mouth hadn't been busted, they'd have looked like they were about to have tea.

"Thaddeus," Sara cried. She stood up and moved toward him, but was promptly shoved onto her knees by a man Kid assumed was Matt. The man slapped her. Sara didn't make a sound when he hit her, just winced, and Kid took an automatic step forward to help her. Mary Beth made indignant sounds behind her gag.

"Oh, let her up," the man behind Kid said. Matt stepped back, keeping his shotgun ready, and Sara got to her feet and went to Kid.

"Let me help you." She gently took hold of Heyes and the two of them eased him onto the floor. As soon as his partner was safely down, Kid swayed, and Sara put her arm around his waist and helped him sit. "Oh, Thaddeus," she said softly, reaching into her pocket and taking out a handkerchief. She handed it to him for his side and leaned over to check on Heyes.

"The girls?" Kid asked.

"They took them from me, them and Mary Beth's little boy." Sara's voice was acidic.

"Now, now, Miss Sterling, they've been locked in the pantry, a safer place for them than out here, wouldn't you say?" He looked at his accomplice. "Matt, how have the ladies' behaved?"

"I know you said it ain't necess'ry to tie 'em but that one," he jerked a thumb at Mrs. Johnson, "wouldn't shut her mouth, so I gagged her and told her if she took it out I'd shoot her. As for her," he indicated Sara, "she's been sitting there plottin' something."

Kid leaned against the back of the wall slightly, resting himself, but he didn't dare relax; he was watching for a chance to get them out of the mess they were in. Sara looked over Heyes and the Kid with her eyes glittering and she stood suddenly, moving toward a basket that sat on a shelf in the kitchen.

"Widow Sterling, what do you think you are doing?" The man who had visciously 'escorted' Kid and Heyes inside the building asked.

"I'm getting a needle an' thread," she replied in a cold, matter-of-fact voice. "An' I'm going to get some towels an' a jug of water, also."

The man laughed, shaking his head when Matt moved towards her. "You are, are you, widow?"

"Yes, I am, Mr. Kelly." Sara stared defiantly at the man. Meanwhile, something clicked in Kid's mind—Kelly, Kelly of the Circle Eights ranch, the second biggest ranch bordering the Bennett's spread? Had to be. And judging by the fact the man was probably around his thirties, he had to be Hard-nosed Kelly's son.

Sara picked up the basket and within a few seconds, Kelly strode over to her and knocked the basket onto the floor. Mrs. Johnson, still seated at the table, jumped.

"You spoke to me in an insolent tone," Kelly said in a soft, cruel voice.

"And yet I am more polite to you than you deserve," Sara retorted. "After all you are a lyin', bushwhackin'—"

Before she could finish her rebellious speech, Kelly back handed her so hard that she was thrown back against the shelves, her head hitting them with a thunk. Kid was on his feet and taking a few steps forward before he had time to register the pain that moving caused him.

"Don't," Sara cried, looking not at Kelly but at the Kid. "Please."

Kid paused, but continued giving Kelly his cold glare. Matt had angled his shotgun in the Kid's direction.

Kelly didn't glance at Curry, he was standing over Sara. "Sara, if you speak to me like that again I'll let Matt over there do whatever he wishes to you in front of your daughters." Her face paled and Kid's eyes narrowed. "Do you understand?"

Matt leered at her and Sara gave a small nod. She gritted her teeth and clenched her hands, then said, "Please, Mr. Kelly, I would like to tend to Thaddeus and Joshua."

"That's much better, my dear," Kelly picked up the sewing basket and opened it, taking out the scissors and pocketing them before he handed it to her. "You may fetch the jug of water on the sideboard and a few towels. Just remember that Matt has his gun on you." Kelly turned. "_Thaddeus_," his tone was mocking. "I suggest you sit back down by your friend."

Reluctantly, Kid eased back down next to Heyes. He looked as his partner, whose slightly pale face accentuated his bruises. The only reason he hadn't punched Kelly through the wall was because of Sara's plea and because his actions might've had consequences for Heyes. To the Kid's surprise, Kelly pulled a cigar from his pocket and walked outside to smoke it, leaving them alone with Matt, who seemed about as intelligent as a buck in rutting season. Maybe now was a good time to make a move.


	21. Chapter 21

_**Author's Note**: Wow it's been a long time since I've updated this. Graduate school got the best of me-in particular my 3rd semester project and then my thesis. The thesis was killer. On the positive side, I've finally graduated! Yay! I'm finally allowing myself the time to delve back into my ASJ love and to write something that isn't for school. I had to come back to this story-I always planned on it. Not just because I'm a writer and it's sort of part of my code but mostly because of all of you that have read this so far. Thank you so much for your encouragement and continued interest. At least I hope you have continued interest. Heh. Regardless, I give you my deepest apologies this is so late and now, after such a long lapse, here is the next chapter. _

* * *

"….I'm going…do it…"

Hints of a whispered dialogue.

"…be…killed…"

The smell of blood—or was that the taste of it? Blood, anyway. There was metallic blood in some form or another. And pain. Always.

Hannibal Heyes stirred undecidedly. It would be a comfort to stay unconscious. Awareness only brought agony. He felt like someone was smacking his forehead repeatedly with a hammer and while they were at it, they'd taken an ax to his shoulder.

Oh. That's right. About the only things Heyes _hadn't_ been hit with, crashed out of, been shot with, or fallen in to the past few days _were _an axe and a hammer. The way their luck was running that would change—

They. He and the Kid. Heyes faced a second of panic before he realized the lower, cautious hiss he could hear was that of his partner. His partner and a lady were talking. About him? Heyes slitted open his eyes. His vision was still blurred enough that even the grain on the wood planks he was lying on were indistinct, all mushed together in a haze. The entire room was undefined and he could just make out the faces of the Kid and Miss Sterling. So much for relying on his vision.

Listening carefully, Hannibal heard some impatient soul's boots pacing on the far side of the room. _That_ had to be their captor. Gingerly Heyes moved his limbs, assessing the severity of his injuries—he still had them all and they were only getting worse. He must have additionally bit open his cheek because there was the copper taste of blood in his mouth. That or his brain had turned to a bloody paste and was draining down the back of his throat. (It felt more like the latter had happened.) Heyes knew he couldn't count on quick accurate movements or on even staying upright, not with his head like it was. As for his agonizing shoulder, it didn't seem to be oozing but it was wet—wet and warm with cleansing water.

"It's gotta be soon now," Sara Sterling whispered. Then, in a louder voice, "Please hold him still."

Uh oh. A needle stab and then that awful pulling of torn, sensitive skin. Heyes gritted his teeth. Stitches. He was being stitched up again.

Kid's familiar voice said, "Easy, partner, she's goin' as fast as she can." After that, Heyes felt Curry take one of his hands. Concentrating on just that, or trying to with all the might his muddled head could manage, Hannibal gripped that hand as though it was his tie to life. Finally the pulling halted and Heyes unclenched his jaw and relaxed his hold on his partner.

The sound of a whistling kettle in the back room shot through Heyes' sensitive head. The noise was just another dagger of pain in his cranium and it made it suddenly even more difficult for Heyes to make sense out of things. The concussed man groaned and put his hands to his ears and tried to think, to plot, to plan—anything to try and ignore that infernal shrill sound.

Sara must have known the kettle that had apparently been put on the stove before the uninvited guests arrived would be ready soon and she and the Kid had planned something around that. Heyes swore silently at the slowness of his usually quicksilver brain and at the insistence of the high pitched noise. If he wanted a back up plan to whatever one those two were going to try to carry out, he had to think of it immediately.

Impatient-Boots banged into some piece of furniture. "The fuck is that..?"

"Excuse me—Matthew?" Miss Sterling asked, her voice meek. Hannibal barely heard her over the thudding in his ears that accompanied the painful whistle.

"Yeah."

"With your blessin', Matthew, I'm gonna go get that kettle we put on for tea. Mrs. Johnson tried t' tell you 'bout it before."

There was the doubly muffled sound of an aggrieved person trying to speak over the noise of the kettle with a gag in their mouth. All right, so Mrs. Johnson _was_ in the room as well. That made their outfit four soldiers. A widowed mother, a side-shot gunslinger, a concussed quick-thinker, and a pregnant woman. _How could they lose?_ Heyes thought snidely.


	22. Chapter 22

_**Author's Note**:_ _Thank you for the reviews, especially since I took so long between chapters 20 and 21! I really am grateful to those of you who have continued to read my story. For my part, I'll continue to write it. :D _

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Heyes took a deep breath and lifted his heavy head. He was on the floor in front of a fireplace on the left wall. Kid was next to him and Sara was nearby. Matthew Impatient Boots was pacing alternately in front of the door and the sideboard. Directly across from Heyes was a dining table where a blurry figure that had to be Mrs. Johnson was seated. Beyond the table were two gray doorways. His concussed vision made him unable to tell what they were but he would guess a set of stairs and the entrance to whatever served for the kitchen.

"Go get the kettle," the henchman said. "Jes' you remember I got a gun on your frien's here an' if'n you run, I'll kill the youngin's."

Sara's posture stiffened in a mother's anger and worry, then she turned and walked quickly through the right doorway. Heyes carefully rolled his head to the side to view his cousin—the Kid had risen to a crouch. The continuous whistling in the other room continued but lost a little volume.  
"Stay there, Heyes," Kid Curry murmured. "It's gonna happen any minute now."

Hannibal sighed and studied the floor, trying to get his eyes to focus. Though his head pounded eventually the wood came into focus. Looked like someone around the area was good at  
carpentry—there were hardly any spaces between the boards and there weren't any holes or jagged edges at all.

Eyes once more cooperating, Heyes studied the room and made a quick mental inventory: the tall and shallow fireplace; the now empty hooks where the fireplace tools no doubt went; a stool; the heavy front door, blocked by Matt; the somewhat out of place elegant sideboard with cupboards, pillars at the front corners and turned feet; the table and long benches on either side; the doorway to the upstairs and the one to the hall and kitchen; a rocking chair; shelves along the log walls; a window covered by faded curtains; a few knick-knacks; children's playthings; and, of course, that side by side shotgun. All things that one would expect and nothing particularly helpful.

Heyes ran a hand through his hair, avoiding the ever-more-tender knot on his head. He looked back at Curry, who was studying him. Heyes couldn't speak for how he looked himself, but the Kid was pale and seemed short of breath. Both partners frowned at each other.

"I said to take it easy. You look terrible," Kid said.

"You look worse," Heyes retorted, though he did feel like he ought to sleep for at least a week and he hurt everywhere and his head wasn't working right. Even so, his younger cousin was getting weaker and it was still his job to come up with and execute plans. It wasn't the Kid's. "What kinda plan you got? You're hurt, Kid, an' I—"

Before any more conversation could be had, Matthew strode menacingly toward the partners. "What're you doing sittin' like that?" he asked, referring to Kid's crouch.

Heyes blinked and gingerly sat up as much as he could, supporting himself with his elbows. The whistling noise was coming steadily nearer. What was the plan? Sara carries in the kettle and when their guard looks at her, Kid tackles him?

"Just tryin' to get comfortable," Curry replied. "You might try the same. Sit down a spell. Or at least stop pacing."

Hannibal Heyes knew that easy tone of his cousin's and what he was using it for. Kid was trying to keep the man's focus on him. Wanting to help, Heyes began to labor to sit completely up.

"Both of you jes' sit your asses down—"

A sudden thunk of metal and the hiss of scalding water spilling interrupted Matthew. The man's yell and the shotgun blast were an instant later.


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note: **_Hey guys. I want to thank everyone who has been reviewing this-it's the comments that let me know you enjoy the story and that I'm not doing too bad of a job portraying our boys. :3 _

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Heyes' vision went dark, he had to struggle against faintness, and his ears began ringing after the deafening discharge. The concussion from his head injuries paired with the blood loss from his gunshot wound had made him feel both off balance and torpid before the shotgun fired, let alone afterward. Even as he fought the gray clouds shrouding him, it didn't take long for Hannibal Heyes to put together what had happened.

Miss Sterling had indeed carried the kettle into the room. No doubt she'd seen Matthew's preoccupation with the two of them and used the opportunity to hit their captor with said kettle. The boiling water had spilled onto the hired gun and he'd squeezed both triggers reflexively.

The light returned to Hannibal Heyes' world and his vision cleared . Glancing around, he found the cluster of holes in the log wall. The butt of the shotgun had been on Matthew's shoulder when he'd been walloped and he'd jerked it to the far right when he fired. No one was hit. That ascertained, Heyes turned his attention on his partner just as Kid tackled the literally still-steaming man.

Dust flew up from the cracks between the floorboards when the two combatants hit the ground. They knocked into the leg of the dining table and nearly upset one of the long benches but neither faltered in their struggle. Heyes forced himself into a feebly-upright position and staggered forward, swearing when he tilted first to one side then the other and soon collapsed onto his knees.

Mrs. Johnson had untied her gag and was hurrying across the room to the sideboard, keeping the table between her and the brawlers. Heyes didn't have a chance to wonder what she was doing before Sara let out a wordless cry. His gaze wrenched away from his cousin to the young mother who was holding over her head the thick wooden stool Heyes had noticed when he'd taken inventory.

"Thad, MOVE!" Miss Sterling shouted.

Trusting her or reading her voice, Kid released the rifle he was fighting for and rolled away, leaving a streak of blood behind him. As soon as Curry was clear, Miss Sterling slammed the stool down on Matthew's head. The burnt, blistered, furious hired gun swore and began to rise when Sara hit him again. This time he fell down and stayed there, though his labored breathing indicated he had just been knocked out.

"Ma'am," Heyes couldn't help but say even as he began to half knee-walk and half crawl toward the Kid, "I mean no disrespect, but you'd be excellent in a bar fight."

It was then that the door to the cabin thumped into the wall as Mr. Kelly entered the cabin, his elegantly engraved six-gun held at the ready.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note: **I can't believe it's been so long since I updated this, again. I'm so sorry, everyone. A personal loss right around the last time I updated as well as medical issues have been my bane. I am inspired again and determined to finish this story because the boys deserve it and so do you, the readers. Thank you so much for sticking with me. Also, yes, I'll update after this chapter quickly since this one is so short.

* * *

Seeing that Kid was right in Kelly's line of fire, Heyes did the only thing he could think of; he grabbed the handle of the fallen kettle and threw it. His aim was unhelped by his double vision and his throw was rather weak but it was enough to make Kelly flinch, taking his eyes off his targets.

Sara Sterling, eyes wild, leapt forward and hit Kelly's wrist hard with the stool, knocking the gun out of his hands.

"The gun!" Sara shrilled.

Heyes tried his best to move forward but the room started spinning, making it hard to move, hard to see, until finally his stubbornness was no longer enough to keep him awake and he fell over.


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note: **Here we are, the next installment! I just had to put this part in a new chapter as it switches viewpoints abruptly thanks to Heyes passing out. Poor boys, they're both pretty much beat. I'm sure you are too, reader, having had to wait this long for a conclusion. Well, it's coming. This will do in the meantime but no, this is not the last chapter nor The End. I hope you like it! Suggestions and comments are still very welcome.

(I edited this chapter slightly today in case anyone read it once then read it again after.)

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Kid Curry had been lying on his back after rolling away from the fight. His side was bleeding freely now and his senses were all dull around the edges. The second the door had opened he'd shoved himself up on an elbow, though, and then when Sara screamed and the gun clattered to the floor he managed to lunge for it despite the protests of his body. Behind him he heard the thud of what was no doubt his partner falling over but the Kid thrust that worry aside and concentrated on keeping ahold of the gun even after he was slammed into from behind.

He went down hard but rolled out of the way of another hit and as the Kid did so he brought the gun up and fired.

The shoulder of Kelly's fancy shirt bloomed with blood and the rancher's son screamed.

Kid couldn't get up but he stayed flat on his back with the gun trained on his enemy steadily, despite the fact he was shivering all over from the sudden chill.

"You shot me," Kelly said in shock before he grabbed his injury and leaned against the doorframe.

"Yeah," Kid replied as he cocked the six gun and stared down the man who had caused all the misery and death of the last few days. "Might do it again."

The sound of a second gun cocking surprised everyone.

"I've got him covered, cowboy," came Marybeth Johnson's voice. "You can put yours down."

Curry glanced over to his right to see the pregnant woman brandishing a gun she'd no doubt pulled from the sideboard drawer. Her hands were shaking but she had her finger on the trigger. Kid frowned and looked back at Kelly, his eyes as hard and unrelenting as his gun.

"Put it down, please," Mrs. Johnson continued. "I don't want to have you go to jail, too, since he's unarmed now."

The word 'jail' penetrated through Kid's blind rage, but he didn't lower his weapon. "You know how many people he's got killed? Over some damn _sheep_?"

"Just because he acts one way doesn't mean you should use his example," Marybeth said. Again Curry thought of a schoolteacher.

"My father will destroy you if you k-kill me," Kelly managed. He hadn't moved and was holding his injury, eyes closed, whimpering under his breath.

The Kid was a lot of things, but he wasn't a murderer. Shooting even Kelly unarmed would make him one. Normally it wouldn't be under consideration or worth wasting the bullet on a whining bully, except he was the man responsible for almost killing Heyes, for killing Jimmy Sterling and Tate, for terrorizing women and children, for that horrible night in the cave he spent expecting Heyes to die on him...

It was like facing Danny Bilson all over again.

"Thad," Sara said softly. "He killed my brother. I want him to pay...but I don't want _you_ to end up payin' that debt, too. You stopped me when I was gonna make a mistake. You said you don't shoot people who're down and you don't hurt people weaker'n you. Mr. Kelly ain't half as strong as you an' Joshua are. 'Sides, if you go to jail for killing him, that will leave me to nurse your partner alone and I know from experience now he takes more'n one person to watch after him."

Kid reluctantly cracked a smile at the second part of her statement, but his hand didn't move. The hatred and blame hadn't left his eyes. It came down to one thing. Kelly was evil. Kelly was responsible for everything. Kelly hurt Heyes. Yet he could hear the echo of Heyes in his mind._ How far do you figure on going toward getting yourself hanged just to get even with him?...Kid, don't. _ "All right," Curry said finally. "But Mrs. Johnson, please give Sara the gun."

"I know something about 'em," Sara said in explanation as she took the weapon.

After he saw that Sara had Kelly in her sights, Curry lowered his weapon, putting it and his hand on the floorboards. He noticed his hand was trembling which worried him distantly. Kid intended to crawl over to Heyes to check on him, but he couldn't push himself up and his eyes closed despite his best efforts.

"Marybeth, tie up Mr. Kelly and Matt so we can tend to Thaddeus and Joshua and let the children out," Sara was saying, but the rest of her words were lost to the Kid as he slid into the waiting cold.


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note: **Hello everyone! It's my birthday and I decided one of my presents was to update the story for all of you. i'm writing as fast as I can so I can conclude this for you. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Something was pounding. Hannibal Heyes grabbed his forehead and opened his eyes, about to tell whomever it was to lay off the carpentry work when he figured out all the racket was in his head. He groaned and tried to focus on his surroundings. He was in a bedroom he didn't recognize. More importantly, where was…?

"Kid?" Heyes asked, managing to turn his pounding head to the right. Sure enough his partner was next to him in the large poster bed but he didn't respond. "Kid," Heyes gasped out his name.

Curry looked terrible; he was white and shivering and breathing unevenly. Ignoring the own pop of pain in his head, Heyes rolled over onto his good side and gently shook his partner. The movement caused fire in his shoulder and he gritted his teeth but kept shaking his cousin. Kid moaned under his breath but otherwise did not respond.

"C'mon Kid!" Heyes insisted, forcing himself into a sitting position to better try to get a response from his partner. He ignored the way the room rolled when he moved, intent on the kid. He lightly hit one of his cheeks and frowned at how cold it felt. "Don't you even think about dyin'," Heyes threatened.

"Joshua, you lie back now!" Sara said as she hurried in. "You ain't supposed to be up. The doc said you both need rest."

"How bad is he?"

"No worse'n you'll be if you don't lie down," she retorted, pushing him gently backwards then getting a glass off the side dresser. "He's lost a lotta blood an' all we can do is give him a lot to drink. I'm stayin' with him an' you both, Joshua. Now, please, the doctor said you should drink this. It's to help with your head an' the pain."

Heyes drank the bitter tasting liquid with the sole intent on getting her to leave him alone so he could focus on his partner but within moments his vision was swimming even more than it had been. "It's a shleepin' powder?"

"The doctor said you need sleep and I'm to give those to you every few hours."

"But the Kid," Heyes slurred. The Kid needed him.

"We're doing ever'thin' we can." Her voice gentled. "He's not that much younger'n you."

"Is it over?" Heyes asked as almost an afterthought. He'd been too worried about his partner to consider worrying whether everyone else was safe or not. That wasn't like him. It was his job to be alert to all the danger and all the angles of every situation they were in but it was hard with his head aching, shoulder throbbing, and his cousin unconscious.

"We're safe, Joshua. I promise."

Heyes doubted her word not because he thought she was lying but because he couldn't consider himself safe until he knew the Kid would be all right. He'd called him the Kid in front of Sara, hadn't he? _Just another thing to worry about,_ Heyes thought as he closed his eyes and slid back into a dreamless sleep.


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry it took from June till now to update this. I've had to take care of personal issues, including the fact my mother was hurt in an accident and needed my care. Mom's better now and my own health issues are more or less under control so that means back to finishing The Story That Wouldn't Quit. Only it will finish, unlike the posse. :) Please forgive my constant lateness. I really feel badly about it. I appreciate everyone that reads this and shares a love of the boys with me. Enjoy the update!

* * *

"Joshwa? Awe you dead? Joshwa?"

Waking up with a headache, a shoulder ache and an everything ache really made a body want to go back to sleep. Heyes grunted but didn't open his eyes.

"Joshwa, it's Cora. Want somethin' t'drink?" the childish voice asked.

Heyes was torn out of his dozing when lukewarm water splashed over his face. Spluttering and muttering an oath, he propped himself up on one elbow and used the other hand to wipe himself off, careful not to hit his forehead. Cora Sterling was on the edge of the bed next to him, glass tilted in her hand, frozen in the act of trying to give someone a drink.

"Sowwy," the four year old said, lower lip preparing to wobble.

Heyes managed a smile. "No problem, Cora, I like to wash up first thing in the morning. You just helped me skip a step."

Cora giggled and put the glass down on the side dresser. "I'm glad your awake, Joshwa. Momma's been real worried 'bout you an' Thaddus."

Kid. Heyes turned to his good side, minding his shoulder and the bruises on his torso, and sure enough Kid was still lying there as pale as a frog's belly. His shivering had lessened but it was still present and the breathing was still too rapid. It was the blood loss. Serious blood loss did that; Heyes had seen it often enough as an outlaw. It had been some time since he'd seen his cousin this bad off, though. _I bet this is how Kid felt in the cave_, Heyes thought. _Absolutely helpless._

"Cora, can you go find your mommy or Mrs. Johnson? Either one will work."

The little girl nodded and left the room. Heyes planned on getting answers from whichever woman came in. A doctor had been here and he wanted to know what he'd said.

"Kid, you need to wake up." Heyes put the back of his hand on his partner's forehead; his skin was still too cool. "C'mon partner, you missed getting a bath from a pretty girl," Heyes teased, seeing if that approach would work. He didn't mention the girl was all of four years old and had emptied a glass of water on him. "Wake up and I'll see you get one, too."

Curry didn't even twitch, reaffirming he was bad off. Shaking that thought from his head, Hannibal pulled the covers up around his cousin's shoulders. Keeping him warm was all that Heyes knew to do but judging from Kid's wan, still face it wasn't doing much good.

"Kid, if you die, I _will_ kill you." Not the most eloquent threat Hannibal Heyes had ever thought of. His brain was probably as bruised as the rest of him. "You need to wake up." His voice faltered when he heard someone approaching. "Sara?"

"Yes, it's me." Sara came in with her skirts swishing. Her dress was black linen and cotton with a tailored bodice and a wide skirt that had a small bustle on the back. It was clean and neat and probably second hand but the grieving woman made it look beautiful. "How you feelin'?"

"Like I'd like to know what the doctor said about my friend," Heyes replied charmingly, managing a smile even with all the bruises and cuts on his face.

"I'll tell you after you tell me how you're really feelin'," she retorted, going over to Heyes and scrutinizing him.

"Like He-heck, ma'am, and I'll wager that's a sight better than Thaddeus feels."

"You've both been through so much it isn't fair," Sara said. "I like the Bennetts, I do, but they came after the trouble was already started an' they shoulda took the sheep on their own an' not hired nobody, just let the ranchers burn down their house. The people ain't comin' back but the house coulda been rebuilt."

"A bit late for that," Heyes said ruefully. "Though I do have some intentions on voicing my…feelings…to our employers."

"I wouldn't blame you at all." Sara bit her lower lip and hesitated before she moved over to Thaddeus and gently smoothed his dark blonde hair from his forehead.

"Sara, you're starting to make me worry," Heyes said. "You haven't said what the doctor said."

"You've got a concussion an' hurt ribs. You lost a sight of blood but your fever ain't back an' the doc thought your shoulder looked pretty good considerin' how many times it's been re-sewn. You need to rest."

Heyes hit her with the most earnest expression his dark brown eyes could give her. "Sara, please just tell me what he said about Thaddeus."

"There ain't much we can do, Joshua," she finally said.


End file.
